


The Way It Is

by ghostbunny



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Act II rewrite, Anders centric, Anders has doubts, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Isabela is surrounded by idiots, It's pretty mild though, Jealousy, M/M, Sexual Content, and a lot of fluff, but happy things too, eventual references to All That Remains so, hawke is just a bit all over the place really, past fenris/hawke, past isabela/hawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbunny/pseuds/ghostbunny
Summary: To Anders, there is no question that his love for Hawke is unrequited. It has been that way for years and Anders can see no reason why anything about that should change now.Even if Hawke has been finding a lot more excuses to come by the clinic lately… And even if, occasionally, Anders will catch a lingering look and begin to wonder… Still, Hawke is a friend and Anders knows he shouldn’t make anything more out of that than there actually is.But, sometimes, he just can’t seem to help it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve begun to think of this fic as a warm-up exercise in writing Handers that got completely out of control. It’s mostly just something I felt the need to get out of my system during my last DA2 playthrough (my second time playing the game and my first time romancing Anders). It’s basically the result of my having no self-control, having Hawke flirt with everyone and then feeling oddly guilty about the results of that. To me, there was just something in the intensity of the Anders romance that didn’t really work with playing the game that way, so this fic is my way of tweaking it to suit my own tastes. I began with the intention of following the canon storyline and simply adding in some extra scenes, but soon ended up getting carried away to the point where it doesn’t really resemble canon that closely at all. I’m not sure what I think about it overall but... I wrote it – might as well share it now.  
> There’s a lot of muddled up game dialogue in this first chapter but there will be a lot less of it in the rest of the story. So if you’re not into that, you only need to bear with it for a little while.  
> I'm a little nervous about writing for a new fandom for the first time in forever, so any encouragement you might want to give will be extremely welcome!

Anders was pacing. He had been trying not to because, despite the restless feeling currently gripping his insides, he was sure there were better things he could be doing at this moment than moving aimlessly from one end of his clinic to the other. But he’d already cleaned every surface that needed it and he’d gone over the potion stocks this morning and, yes, the supply of poultices was running low again and he was certain more would be needed by tomorrow, but there was little point in beginning that now. Hawke could be back at any moment. He was supposed to have been back a while ago.  

Anders’ hands itched with the ever-present need to make his time matter – that, and what was undoubtedly the feeling of sheer nervousness. What they were going to do... it was big. And possibly reckless. No, it was definitely that. It was dangerous and part of him hated the thought of dragging Hawke into it. But he did not know who else could he turn to for this and there was certainly no one else that he trusted so implicitly.  

 _Hawke throws himself into danger on an almost daily basis, and usually for lesser causes than this. It is good that he agreed to help._  

The thought belonged to Justice, which was why Anders bristled slightly at it. It wasn’t that it was untrue, but the way the spirit reasoned with all this was different. Hawke didn’t matter to Justice the way he did to Anders. And wasn’t that the root of all disagreement he was having with his spirit passenger these days... 

But that hardly mattered. Distraction or no, the help Hawke gave was invaluable to their cause. Justice could not argue with that. And indeed, the spirit remained mostly quiet within him, no more than a slightly impatient buzz under his skin. Anders didn’t know if it was coming more from Justice or from him, but that was normal. It was only in those moments when they disagreed that he could feel any real distinction between them. Only this matter with Hawke... 

Just where had Hawke got to? It did not take this long to get to The Hanged Man and back. Could he be having trouble convincing Varric and Isabela to help? That wasn’t usually the case. Well, not with Varric – Isabela, he could see being reluctant to stick her neck out without the promise of getting anything out of it other than the warm fuzzy feeling of _doing the right thing_ , a concept he wasn’t sure Isabela was all too familiar with. But Hawke could usually twist her arm easily enough. He was far too good at charming people into following him. Anders knew that very well. Not that it had taken much to charm _him_.  

Only saving his life... Only giving his acceptance. The kind Anders had only ever felt before in such small doses they hardly felt real anymore. The kind he hadn’t been sure he’d ever feel again, since Justice.  

He allowed his thoughts to be moved on into some other direction, something more practical, and Anders was in the process of dimming the lantern outside the clinic doors, having decided he might as well close up while he waited, when he finally heard sounds coming from the basement entrance to the Amell estate, Hawke’s estate, which opened up just by the clinic. It surprised him because it wasn’t the direction he had expected Hawke to return from. There were much faster routes back from Lowtown and Hawke had said nothing about needing to return home before they headed out.   

But then the basement door opened and Hawke’s grinning face emerged from behind it, turning slightly to say something to Varric, who was coming into view behind him. Anders’ insides gave a familiar sort of lurch that was half pleasure at the sight of his friend and half pain from the sheer hopelessness of the situation Anders had found himself in with him. And then, somewhere past all that there was the feeling of something like irritation or impatience that must have been Justice because, yes, he was right: this really wasn’t the time for that. Hawke and Varric stepped out from the basement doorway and then, out of the dark, where Anders expected to see Isabela, came the silvery white head of Anders’ least favourite member of their little party. And suddenly the answers began to fall into place: why they’d taken so long, why they’d come back via Hightown and not directly from The Hanged Man. It was starting to make sense...  

Except that it didn’t at all. Because what was Hawke _thinking_ , asking _Fenris_ of all people to come along for this? This wasn’t one of their usual expeditions where any one of their friends would do, they were planning to sneak into the Gallows, for the Maker’s sake, to look for evidence of a Templar plot. And Hawke wanted the person least sympathetic to mages they knew to tag along with them? It was insanity. How had he even got Fenris to agree to it?  

No. He didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. Because it was obvious, really, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what was going on between the two of them exactly... only that there was definitely something. And this was far from the first time it had stirred this unwanted, utterly impractical jealousy inside him.  

Anders pushed a frustrated hand over his hair and Hawke smiled sheepishly back at him. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I couldn’t find Isabela. But I think it works out for the best this way. We’re not exactly sure what we’re getting ourselves into here but if things don’t go quite as smoothly as we hope and we do end up face to face with a group of angry Templars that we’d most likely need to kill before making our escape, I’m thinking that having our friend with the giant sword here on our side is a good bet.” 

The elf in question did not look entirely impressed by the description but was as used to Hawke’s flippancy as the rest of them and said nothing, simply turned his glare back to Anders, who folded his arms and returned it with one of his own. “I’d say the matter of him being on our side in this is up for debate.” 

“Then let me reassure you, mage,” Fenris replied in a tone that was far from anything that could reasonably be called reassuring, “If I planned to turn you in to the Templars I’d have done so long before now.” 

As though he couldn’t change his mind about that any time he chose. The only thing stopping him was Hawke. Which Anders could concede was a fair enough point in itself. It wasn’t like this would be the first time he’d be facing Templars alongside them, or aiding mages, simply because Hawke had asked it of him.  

“If you’re coming along then you cannot tell anyone, not about what we’re doing, or the entrance to the tunnels, none of it. That goes for all of you, I mean it.” Anders let his gaze fall to the dwarf who’d been silent until now so that he’d almost forgotten who the most likely blabbermouth was here.  

“Blondie, my lips are sealed,” Varric told him and Anders wasn’t sure if he’d heard a promise that sounded more unlikely. He sighed and wondered if it might have been better to have insisted to Hawke that the two of them do this alone. But it was possibly too late for that now. He turned his frown back up towards Fenris and the elf simply scowled at him instead of responding.   

“Come on,” said Hawke with another smile, “I think we’ve all been friends long enough that we can afford a little more trust here.” 

It was simplifying matters much too much but... perhaps he wasn’t far wrong. At the very least, Anders believed in Hawke. That was enough to make him nod, though he found he couldn’t quite return his friend’s smile with any measure of happiness of his own. “So be it,” he murmured. 

But Hawke just grinned back at him and Anders had to fight not to let it steal the breath from his lungs. He felt a nudge from Justice, reminding him not to lose focus on the task ahead. And he nodded, more to himself, to Justice, than to anyone else. He went back to the door of the clinic, closed and locked it up, while Hawke did the same with the door they’d just emerged from.  

“Shall we?” Hawke said when they were done and Anders could only nod, feeling Justice’s determination wash over his petty concerns and strengthen his desire to get this over with.  

“Let’s go.” 

* 

The encounter with the Templars played out so much worse than Anders could have imagined it.  

Ser Alrik was dead – good; one less Templar in the world was hardly something to cry over, especially that one who had abused, threatened, made so many Tranquil... made _Karl_ Tranquil... and how many others _–_ but the _mage._ That mage girl... Justice had – _he_ had nearly killed her too. If Hawke hadn’t...  

Anders rummaged frantically through the meagre assortment of belongings he’d acquired during his stay in Kirkwall, determined to whittle them down to only what was absolutely necessary. Too used to life on the run, he’d never managed to convince himself that this place he had settled in over the past three years was really safe, that it was a place to stay and even now that he had some semblance of freedom – _ha! –_ he hadn’t allowed himself to get into the habit of owning much. Whatever wealth he gathered was fed straight into the clinic, into the _cause_...  

The cause... what good was he to it if even people he’d vowed to protect weren’t safe from him?   

He had to get out. Get somewhere he couldn’t hurt anyone. He had become too dangerous, his hold over the corrupted spirit inside him had become too tenuous for him to think he could stay in this place any longer. He had acquired several volunteers over the years here. They didn’t have his aptitude for healing magic, but they could still be of some help to the refugees here. It was better this way. He couldn’t risk remaining, knowing that he could turn at any moment. 

He continued his frenzied sorting, noting as he went what was to be thrown away, what could be left for others to make use of. He didn’t even hear the footsteps until they were right behind him. 

“What... is this?” Hawke. His voice was a mixture of confusion and concern and Anders felt something inside him deflate at the sound of it. Because, as little as he wanted his friend to see him like this, of course Hawke had followed him.  And of course he would want – he _deserved_ – an explanation. “You know, throwing everything away isn’t going to make you feel better.” 

Anders’ hands gripped the edge of the chest he’d been rummaging through tightly enough that it might have hurt, had he been in any position to take note of such things. “Should I feel better?” He took a moment, allowed his eyes to fall shut, eyebrows drawn tightly together, then he stood and turned an anguished look upon his friend. If Anders could even be allowed to call him that now, after what he’d just done. He wouldn’t blame Hawke for wanting nothing more to do with him. “You were the only thing that kept me from murdering an innocent girl.” He was looking directly at Hawke as he spoke, but Anders could barely even see him. Just saying the words out loud was enough for the guilt to overwhelm him. “It’s all gone wrong. Justice and I. We’re just a monster, same as any abomination.” 

“Anders...” Hawke didn’t seem sure what to say. It was rare to see the man lost for words. In fact, he usually would simply say whatever came into his head without stopping for even a moment to think it through. And it often was the case that he’d say completely the wrong thing, but even when he did, he’d blithely continue on, seemingly unconcerned as to whether or not he’d offended.   

Maybe this was different than usual. Hawke had trusted Anders. And, willingly or not – it hardly mattered – Anders had just betrayed that trust. 

Another, deeper voice spoke up then, startling Anders slightly from his thoughts. “Maybe it’s time to realise your limitations.” It was Fenris. Anders hadn’t even realised that he was there. Had he really been standing just a few paces behind Hawke this entire time? Anders felt a sickly mix of shame and frustration churning inside him. Why had he come? Why, of all people, did he have to witness this new low he’d fallen to back in those tunnels? 

Irritation rose up from within the emotional maelstrom inside him, along with the thought: had he followed Hawke back here simply to gloat? “Yes, fine,” Anders bit out at him. “Kick me while I'm down. Clearly you're right about everything.” 

Fenris seemed entirely, frustratingly, unaffected by the retort and replied simply, “It was a suggestion, not a condemnation.” 

Anders didn’t care; it was clearly too late for his, or anyone else’s suggestions now. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. He wasn’t going to put himself in the position for it to ever happen again.  

As his thoughts began to drift, Hawke’s voice cut through them saying, “Fenris, perhaps you should go... It might be better if I talk to him alone.”   

Anders startled slightly, and took note of his surroundings once again, only just realising that Varric hadn’t come back with the other two. Distantly, he wondered why that was. More immediately, he took in the look on Fenris’ face, the obvious reluctance there. There was no reason to believe that the elf had any desire to stick around because he wanted to offer more helpful _suggestions._ Rather, it was extremely obvious that he didn’t want to leave Hawke alone with _the abomination_ , unstable as he had just proven himself to be. 

He saw the deep frown marking the elf’s features. The pleading glance Hawke sent his way. How Hawke’s hand lifted in what might have been meant as a placating gesture, then fell short of touching the black armour-clad shoulder, as if he’d thought better of it. Hawke’s hand hovered awkwardly for a moment, then fell to his side. And even through his anguish, Anders couldn’t help but feel that he’d just witnessed something he shouldn’t have. And he didn’t know how, with everything else he was feeling, he still had room for jealousy even now. He didn’t even know what it was he was feeling jealous of.  

A moment passed where Fenris held Hawke’s gaze. Then he let it drop and he walked away without a word, leaving Hawke and Anders alone in the clinic. 

Hawke took a few seconds after whatever... _that_ had been. Then he turned back to Anders. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened back there.” 

Anders could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Can’t I? Or weren’t you paying attention? It was me that insisted on going down there. It was me that lost control and nearly killed an innocent. Who else am I supposed to blame?” 

“And I suppose Justice had nothing to do with any of it?” Hawke raised a sardonic eyebrow but Anders had no patience for it. 

“You don’t get it do you? Justice and I are one. I invited him to become a part of me. There is no separating us and blaming our actions on one or the other. I’m as much to blame as he is!” He voiced the doubt that had been filling his mind, taking up space in everything he had once felt certain of. “What if the Templars are right?” 

“Well in that case, I suppose we should both just pop over to the Gallows and hand ourselves in.” 

Anders knew what he was saying but he couldn’t help but feel that Hawke was missing the point again. How could he make him understand? “You know it’s not you that’s the problem. You’re in control of your magic.” 

“Yes, I do know it’s not me. The Templars are the problem. They always have been. Are you really about to go against everything you believe and condemn all mages because you had one slip up?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore.” He was pacing now. His voice was getting louder as he spoke and he hadn’t been calm before but this was worse. He couldn’t continue down that route. He stopped still where he was standing. Thinking of how, if he lost control again, it was Hawke he was alone with. Hawke, who was the last person in Thedas he could ever want to hurt. 

“Okay,” said Hawke gently. His expression was more serious now. Warm brown eyes locked on his, suddenly so earnest it _hurt_. “Listen... You were out of control and even then you heard what I was saying. You knew in your heart that you had to stop. Doesn’t that count for something?” 

Why did he say these things? What had Anders ever done to earn this level of trust? It was strange how it both comforted and pained him simultaneously. It wasn’t enough to excuse Anders, and yet there was something in Hawke that made him try to do so anyway. He did that for Anders. And Anders could not understand why.  

But Hawke was kind, wasn’t he? Perhaps it was as simple as that. He tried to hide it usually, behind sarcasm and glib comments. But it only took seeing it once and then it was impossible not to see all the time. It was the reason Anders had loved him for so long.  

But Anders wasn’t going to kid himself that he deserved it. He dropped his gaze and answered in a voice that couldn’t fully disguise the pain he was feeling. “You have too much faith in me. Without you I'd never have known who was there until it was too late.” It had been such a close thing. By all rights Hawke should be furious with him that it had even come to that. Defeated, Anders voiced the question that had been going through his head since he’d fled the tunnels, “How can I fight for the freedom of mages, when I am the example of the worst that freedom brings?” 

“Trust me, Anders, I’ve seen worse. We both have. You’ve never let it put you off before.” 

“Well it’s never been me turning violent on people who don’t deserve it before,” he snapped, finally looking up at his friend, letting him see the raw fear written on his face, then forcing back the ill feeling that came with the thought, _that’s not true; What about the Wardens? Did they really deserve–_ but he couldn’t think about that. He wouldn’t tell Hawke about it, after he’d tried so hard to put it behind him. His hands were shaking now. “What if the next time it happens is with a patient? Don’t you see what a danger I’ve become?” 

And Hawke appeared saddened, but he didn’t give up. “I know that you can control it.” He said it with such firm belief and Anders couldn’t understand. How did he know this? Where did his certainty come from? But there was something so compelling about it. Something Anders couldn’t help but feel he needed. Hawke continued, “Anders, I’ve seen you do it. And I’ll be there with you through it. If that’s what it takes for you to get past this, know that you have whatever help I can give.” 

The words made his heart contract painfully. They sounded so much like words he’d dreamed Hawke would say to him someday. And yet, they couldn’t possibly be meant the way Anders wanted them to be.  “You can’t promise that,” he all but whispered.  

But Hawke just raised his eyebrows and grinned as if to say, _challenge accepted_. “I can’t believe you’d doubt me.” 

Anders found he couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. Perhaps it didn’t matter if Hawke couldn’t give him what he wanted most, because his friendship alone was something Anders had come to treasure. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he valued more. Especially in moments like this. “I don’t doubt you,” he answered softly. “I never could.” 

Hawke’s smile lit his eyes and the warmth of it burned all the way through Anders. He felt that familiar tug of longing because, he couldn’t help it, he always, _always_ wanted more but if this was all he was getting then he would accept it gratefully. 

“That girl’s okay by the way.”  

Anders blinked and felt some of that new warmth drain away with the sudden rush of guilt that came over him. He hadn’t even thought to ask about that. He’d been too wrapped up in thoughts of his own failures to think of it. 

“I told her to run for it...” Hawke’s smile was fading as something more hesitant took its place. “I’m not completely certain if it was the right thing. It won’t be an easy life for her, having to run from the Templars... but I couldn’t bring myself to send her back to the Gallows. Not knowing the sort of things that have been going on in that place. Even if Ser Alrik was the worst of them, I’d rather not risk it.” 

In that moment, Anders felt as though he could have kissed him. It was far from the first time he’d wanted to but he didn’t usually have to exert quite so much effort to hold back. Usually Justice helped with that, but the subtle influence he could usually attribute to the spirit had not been there since Anders had got back to the clinic. Now all he had to help him exercise restraint in the face of Hawke being so utterly perfect it made him _ache_ was the knowledge that this was his _friend_ – his friend who he respected, and who he knew didn’t share these feelings. And Anders would rather not ruin what they had with this desire he felt. He would not allow another lapse in control today. 

While Anders quietly struggled, Hawke continued to speak, “I’ll do what I can to help her anyway. I asked Varric to go after her to help secure passage away from the city, and to arrange anything else she may need... I hope it’ll be enough. At least that way we can say something good came out of this. Other than Ser Alrik getting precisely what he deserved, that is.” 

Anders’ mouth opened but he couldn’t quite manage to make any words come. He was just... well, it was foolish to be surprised that Hawke would go so far. He’d done so much for the mages in Kirkwall already. Not just mages. He helped so many people. Even when he made himself out to be reluctant, or tried to pretend it was just work to him, the reality was that he did it because he cared. There was no hiding that from those who knew him well enough.  

In the end Anders managed to focus his thoughts on the words Hawke was speaking. Ser Alrik... that was who this had all begun with. “Did you find anything on Ser Alrik, or was the tranquil solution just another of my delusions?”  

“It exists,” Hawke replied, reaching into his pack to pull out a neatly folded letter, “But it was Ser Alriks plan, no one else’s.”   

“Let me see that.” Hawke held out the letter and Anders took it from him, opening it and scanning it frantically. Then he blinked and read it through again, more carefully this time. “The divine rejected the idea... Meredith rejected the idea... This is not what I expected.” He didn’t know how to feel about that. Relieved? Or worried that he’d allowed his fears to spin so wildly out of control? 

He needed time to think this through. Perhaps to rethink everything... 

“Perhaps I should try talking to the Grand Cleric, maybe she’s more reasonable than I thought.” 

Anders’ eyes fell from the letter in his hand, to the mess of discarded objects surrounding the trunk he’d been rooting through earlier. Suddenly the task seemed a lot less important. If Hawke really meant what he’d said then maybe he really could do this. He just needed to find the strength it would take to control this force inside him. With Hawke at his side, it no longer seemed like such an impossible task. 

“Hawke... Garrett,” he said, finally looking up at his friend, “Thank you... I will think on what you’ve said.” 

Hawke smiled and reached out a large hand, dropping it easily onto Anders’ shoulder. Anders couldn’t help but lean in slightly to the comforting weight of it. “Any time, Anders.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke has something he requires Anders' assistance with...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still fairly new to the Dragon Age fandom but in all the fic I've read so far, I've never seen anyone write Hawke as a spirit healer. I suppose it must be because I haven't really been looking. Anyway, I thought it would be interesting to have these two use a common interest in healing magic as an excuse to spend more time together. Not sure if I've properly understood how spirit healing actually works but hopefully I'm not completely off here... If I am, uh, just go with it. Also, specialisations in DA2 are so weird, how can Hawke just randomly learn to be a spirit healer? I don't know...
> 
> By the way, in my mind, Hawke's theme tune for this fic is [A Chicken With Its Head Cut Off](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JjA2jsNUmc) by The Magnetic Fields. Which is just something that amuses me, that's all.

“Let me get this straight,” said Anders, in a tone that did little to conceal his bafflement, “You’ve taken to communicating with spirits in your spare time?” 

Hawke shrugged. He was sitting on the ground with his back against one of the stone pillars in Anders’ clinic. It was evening and the place was quiet, empty but for the two of them. Hawke had come over after offering to help Anders to resupply his potion stock, as he’d been meaning to do for a few days now. What he was actually doing – after showing up with a grin and a large, fresh bundle of elfroot that he’d gathered from Sundermount that day – was little else besides sitting and talking. “You could put it that way, I suppose, though it’s not as though we’ve been sitting around having a natter over coffee. It’s just... magic. You know, I wouldn’t have thought it’d be such a strange thing to hear for a man currently sharing his body with an actual spirit of Justice.” He looked up, questioning. “I thought you were a spirit healer yourself.” 

“I am – and I _do_ know how it works. What I’m surprised about is that it’s you. You’ve never shown an interest in this kind of magic before.” Anders peered quizzically at the other man, but Hawke was strangely inscrutable, sitting there with a small smile on his face, idly picking elfroot leaves from their stalks and tossing them into a bucket at his side.  

“You know me,” he said, amiably, “I’m always up for trying new things.” 

“Right... what I mean to say is that I hadn’t had this down as your particular type of new thing.” 

Hawke laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s magic. I’m a mage. Learning a new spell once in a while kind of goes with the territory.” 

Anders couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head at the vast simplification. What would his tutors back at the circle have made of that, he wondered. “You know it’s a little more than that, don’t you? We’re talking about a whole school of magic. One that’s known for being particularly... involved. It’s not something you just dip into. There’s supposed to be a whole process you need to go through.” 

“Huh,” said Hawke, eyes flicking up from a bare elfroot stalk, shining with interest in a way that made Anders feel pleasantly warm, despite himself. “Go on then, how did you get into it?”  

“Me? Well, I’m a special case. I have a _natural affinity_ for healing magic, along with a knack for charming people and spirits alike. Oh, and cats, for that matter.” 

“Are you trying to say that I’m not charming?” 

Anders tried, and failed, to mask a smile as he glanced up from his work. “You have your moments.” 

Hawke laughed softly at that as he tossed the empty stalk of elfroot onto the rather small pile he’d made and picked up another. Anders took a moment from working on the salve he was preparing to look at him. This might well have been one of those very moments. It was difficult to think of him as anything but charming. Perhaps it wasn’t such a strange thing after all if some benevolent spirit had seen fit to give Hawke access to more powerful kinds of healing magic than the simple creation spells he was used to. There was no doubt that he could do a lot of good with it, with the way he went about the city regularly solving everybody’s problems.  

“I know I probably don’t have to say it, but you’ll be careful, won’t you? Nothing involving spirits is without risk. And,” Anders let a touch of bitter irony slip in his tone, “you don’t have the benefit of the circle of magi and a host of templars breathing down your neck, watching to make sure you don’t screw up.”  

“Careful, don’t go making me jealous now,” Hawke drawled and honestly, Anders was just relieved not to hear him make any mention of Justice or how he was one to talk about the dangers of dealing with spirits. “Risk of demonic possession aside, I can’t imagine I have all that much to worry about with an expert such as yourself living on my doorstep – or basement-doorstep, that is. What do you say? Will you have me?” 

_Yes. Always. In any way you’re willing to give._  

Anders blinked and then schooled his expression into one of casual amusement – or what he could only hope was that. “You want me to tutor you? I have to say, I never saw myself as the teaching type.” 

"I don't know, I could see you nourishing young minds, inspiring revolution and all that. It's not so hard to imagine. But I don't want to take up too much of your time, I know I take enough of it as it is with all the various jobs I drag you along with me on. I was thinking that a friendly source of advice, should I need it, would suffice." 

Hawke was just sitting there, twisting the stalk of elfroot in his hands, seemingly unaware of the fact that he could take up as much of Anders’ time as he wanted and Anders would surely utter no word of complaint – though he supposed Justice would have a thing or two to say about that, if it ever came to it. But, Maker, did he really have no idea how much Anders wanted him? 

“I, er – well, I’m sure I could be that at the very least.” 

“Thank you. I’m also thinking that books would be a good place to start. I seem to remember there being some reading involved when I started looking into force magic a while back. Not that I – ah – got very far with that particular venture.” 

“Easily distracted, hm?” Anders teased. “I suppose that can happen when you’re so up for trying new things all the time.” 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m being unfavourably judged all of a sudden?” Hawke raised an eyebrow, but there was mirth in his eyes. 

Anders held up his hands. “Not by me. Maker knows I’m no position to do that.” Not that that generally stopped him when the mood struck, but this _was_ Hawke; he could be allowed certain privileges. “I think I might actually have what you need.” 

“Oh?” 

Anders quickly wiped his hands on the rag he'd left on his work table then went to the trunk where he kept his belongings. There wasn't much to search through, even though several of the items he'd been willing to throw away a few days ago had since been returned to their usual places. Hawke came up to peer over his shoulder just as he pulled out the rather battered old tome he'd been searching for. Anders didn't have many books because often they were expensive, but not so much when they were found in this state of disrepair. Still, it was useful to have and he was fairly certain all the pages were still there, even if a few of them were a bit loose. He handed the manual on spirit healing over to Hawke and waited for the inevitable response.  

“Does this, er, have any particular sentimental value?” 

“It’s just something I picked up between here and Amaranthine. I figured it might come in handy. I think the merchant I found it with might have overlooked its value because of its shabby appearance.” 

“Ah, because, I was just going to say; it looks rather a lot like junk to me.” 

Anders rolled his eyes. “Ha ha... mock all you like. But good luck finding another one of these outside of a circle library.”   

But Hawke, with a smile, sat back and began to carefully turn the pages in a way that suggested _junk_ might not have been a one hundred per cent honest assessment on his part. "Thank you. It's appreciated." 

Anders’ expression warmed. “I’m glad.” It was stupid, utterly stupid, how something as simple as seeing Hawke appreciate a battered old book could make Anders feel like this. He’d already known he had it bad, but it was getting even worse, Maker help him. 

Anders got to his feet, folding his arms in front of him. “Before you get too distracted, you’re the one who showed up here with about a ton of elfroot, promising you were going to help with these poultices. I’ll be up all night if you don’t make good on that.” 

With that, Hawke closed the book and got to his feet, sighing, “Okay, okay, back to work. I get it.” He placed the book down and looked at Anders, raising an eyebrow. “You know I have suppliers for this sort of thing. It would save an awful lot of work.” 

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that before,” Anders answered, slightly uncomfortable. “It’s more... economical this way.” He paused a moment then admitted, “I can’t rely on handouts from you _all_ the time. And not when we already have the elfroot we need right here.” 

He wondered for a moment if Hawke would argue with that. But he simply looked him in the eye and then shrugged. "Manual labour it is, then." 

Anders didn’t mind the irony in his tone; it was better than arguing about it. In a moment of honesty that he didn’t often allow himself, he added, “Or I could put it like this: this way I get to enjoy more of your company.” 

He watched Hawke’s expression, taking in the slow pleased smile as it spread over the other man’s face and enjoying the feeling of having put it there. He really did try not to do that too often. Yes, they had flirted back and forth rather a lot over the years, even if it didn’t really mean anything on Hawke’s end – that was just Hawke’s way, that was all – but Anders had always known it couldn’t be more than that. No matter how much he wanted it. Between Justice, the clinic and the mage underground there was little to no chance of it ever working. Even if Hawke had wanted it, he just didn’t see how he could inflict all of his _issues_ on another person like that. 

“Well then,” said Hawke, “if that’s the case, I can’t complain, can I?”  

But in certain moments, Anders had to admit, it felt really good to pretend. 

* 

Hawke had taken to spending a lot more time around the clinic lately. The official reason for that was that it was the ideal environment to work on his healing magic. But Anders did wonder from time to time if that really was the reason for it. Though, of course, if ever the thought occurred to him that there might be more to it than that, Anders would quickly chase it away; insist that he focus on more important things.  

He was fairly certain that Justice was playing no small part in keeping up Anders’ levels of self-control whenever Hawke came to visit – and, no, he hadn’t missed the irony in _tha_ _t_. It wasn’t even as though he was doing all that much to monopolise Anders’ attention; most of the time he’d just be sitting on a spare cot, reading the book Anders had given him. The book that he’d left in the clinic, as though deliberately, to give himself a reason to keep coming back. And wasn’t it just pathetic – _pathetic_ – the way Anders would imagine these things? They'd been friends for more than three years! Hawke did not need to make up excuses to just to see him.  

And yet, even as he tried to convince himself that Hawke had simply misunderstood his intentions in giving him the book, Anders could not quite bring himself to suggest that Hawke could take it home with him if he wanted to. 

It varied, how busy the clinic actually was these days. When he’d first set up, in the years following the Blight in Ferelden, Anders had thought he’d see no end to refugees requiring his services. These days, they were fewer and he could sometimes go for long stretches without seeing a single patient. A few weeks ago, he would have used that time to work on his manifesto. Now, he found the words for it weren’t coming to him as easily as they used to. He had not quite sorted out in his mind the incident with Justice in the tunnels. For all Hawke’s reassurances, he just didn’t know any more if he was the right person to help his fellow mages. He couldn’t help but think that they would have stood a better chance if Justice had chosen someone else to merge with. Someone better. Less... volatile. Thinking it almost made him wish for the early days of the clinic when he’d barely had time for such thoughts and he certainly hadn’t had the time to linger over them. Because the case was that there was simply nothing he could do to change that now.      

So, really, Hawke’s sudden interest in improving his healing magic could not have come at a better time. And, in the end, it came to him that Hawke’s real motive in being around so much was probably just to keep an eye on him after Justice’s outburst in the tunnels the other week. Anders had confessed to him his fear of losing control again and possibly hurting a patient and, in response, Hawke had promised to help him through it, to be near and, if the worst should happen, to guide him back to himself the way he had done that day.  

It did not necessarily mean anything other than that Hawke was a good friend. And that was for the best. Anders couldn’t ask him for more than that. 

So, whenever Hawke showed up and, usually after chatting for a while, picked up his book and went back to reading, Anders felt some of the tension he’d been carrying so much more of these days leave his body. He felt a measure of focus come back to him, so much more useful to him when it didn’t have to be forced. He began to value this time with Hawke all the more because it meant, for a little while, he could relax just a bit. 

One afternoon when it was slightly busier than Anders had become used to lately, he was grateful once again to see Hawke show up. He felt better about him taking time to be here when he could do more than keep his nose in a ratty old book. A boy in his early teens had just come in with a nasty wound on his leg. There had been a lot of blood, but it was certainly no worse than the scrapes his friends got into regularly when fighting bandits or gangs.  Hawke could take this one. Anders would watch and try to guide him on the most efficient way to knit the flesh back together, how to leave the least amount of scarring. When Hawke completed the task, showing vast signs of improvement, he looked up with a triumphant smirk as the boy got to his feet and informed them that the pain was gone.  

“Looks good,” said Anders. “You’re free to go.” The boy did just that and Anders turned back to Hawke, taking in that smile still lingering on his face. “Why do I get the impression that any encouragement I might give you right now will go straight to your head?” 

“Because it probably will. I have no issue with admitting that.”  

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least you’re honest about it.” 

At that point, something in Hawke's smirk changed slightly and Anders turned to follow his gaze to the entrance of the clinic.  

“Isabela!” Hawke greeted, stepping around Anders to meet their friend as she approached. 

“Hawke,” Isabela replied evenly, “I wasn’t expecting you here.”  

She moved to one of the tables that Anders usually worked at and hoisted herself up onto it. She folded one bare thigh over the other, leaned her elbow against it and rested her chin in her hand. She gave Hawke one of her usual sultry looks as he leaned against the worktop beside her saying, “Nor I you. I’ve hardly seen you lately. Where do you keep disappearing to?” 

"I've been busy. That's all." She spoke in the evasive manner that usually meant something to do with that relic she was always after. They weren't likely to get much else out of her about it if past experience was anything to go by. 

Hawke just raised an amused eyebrow. “How very mysterious of you…”  

Isabela was clearly enjoying the attention. Anders almost wouldn’t have put it past her to show up at the clinic with no other intention than to flirt with Hawke, except that she had already admitted to not knowing he was going to be here. Anders was sure that it was harmless enough and that there was likely no force in existence that could stop either one of them from being the shameless flirts that they were but, even so, he couldn’t quite resist the urge to move things along.  

“Isabela.” He kept his tone light, enquiring, “What brings you here today?” 

“To the clinic?” Isabella arched one dark eyebrow, “I’m looking for a healer.” 

Hawke grinned. “In that case you’ve found exactly the right person. Just tell me where I need to wiggle my fingers.” He raised his hands as if to demonstrate and Anders likely would have found it endearing except that it was Isabela he was talking to and –  

“Oh… I could think of a few places for that.” She smirked. “I remember those fingers of yours being really quite talented.”  

Shameless. That’s what she was. Anders was standing _right there_ but did she care? Anders could have lived quite happily without knowing any more details about the various places Hawke's hands had been, especially when it in no way involved him. Even Hawke seemed slightly surprised at how he'd walked right into that one if the faint pink on his cheeks was anything to go by, but he took it in his stride. 

“Ha! Now there’s a tempting offer, though not quite what I had in mind. I think perhaps a few of the other patients may object.” 

Anders would have been impressed by the ease with which Hawke had recovered but instead he found a few other, rather less accommodating emotions taking precedence. Before he could think to stop himself, he muttered irritably, “Yes… and if I were you, I’d wait either way - if she’s here for her usual treatment, that is…” 

“Now you’re just being rude.” Isabela’s eyes found his and they gleamed in a way that let Anders know he was really _for it_ now. “You know, if you’re jealous you could always join in. It’s not as though it would be _our_ first time.” 

And there it was, as he should have expected: Anders could try to shame Isabela all he wanted, but he couldn’t think he’d get away with it without having the sheer hypocrisy of it pointed out to him. That, with an added dig at his obvious feelings for Hawke thrown in for good measure. Had Hawke noticed that, he wondered? He couldn’t bring himself to look his way and see. 

“I... don’t even know how to respond to that.” 

But Isabela was far from done, “Don’t be coy now. I remember you in Denerim. I know you’re not really as high above the rest of us as the stick-in-the-mud living in your head has you convinced you are.” 

“That’s not how it...” He began the attempt to explain – once again – how his merge with Justice had irrevocably changed him and his past really was just that: _the past_. He was never going to be that person again. But he stopped, quickly realising the futility of it, “Never mind…” 

Isabela just leered at him. “Besides, I can’t imagine Hawke would mind.” Her smile became all the more predatory, “Oh, now you’re blushing - _that’s_ fun.” 

He was not blushing – was he? Oh, Maker, he probably was. It was embarrassing enough just to think that, not that many years ago, he'd have taken the suggestion as easily as Hawke had taken her offer to him. Anders probably would have even have taken her up on it. And now look at him! Isabela's plan to knock him down a peg or two had worked far too easily. There was a large part of him that didn't think he could look Hawke in the eye now. But there was another part of him that couldn't help himself and that was what won out in the end.  

Hawke, typically, just seemed amused by the exchange. “Isabela…” he chuckled, “I think you can stop now – you’ve punished him enough.” 

“Do you think so?” Isabela’s eyes still had that gleam to them and when Anders glared at her they simply sparkled all the more. 

“You know,” Hawke said thoughtfully, “I always forget that you two knew each other from before… Did the two of you really…?” 

And that was just great. Perfect. Exactly the way he’d wanted this conversation to turn. 

“Oh, yes,” said Isabela.  

At the same time, Anders muttered, “It was a long time ago.” 

“He was a lot more fun back then, as I recall.”  

That, he couldn’t argue with. But he didn’t exactly thank Isabela for bringing it up. Of course, Hawke jumped all over it. “More fun than you are now?” His eyebrows were raised high and Anders couldn’t tell from his tone if he was being sarcastic or not. He hoped not, but couldn’t exactly blame Hawke if he was. “Anders’ wild Ferelden youth; now that’s something I’d like to have seen.” 

Anders knew that he was probably making things worse by being miserable about it but he couldn’t help it. He’d had this thought before; would Hawke have liked him more – would they have been better suited to one another – if they’d only met before Justice? 

“It can’t be any more exciting than yours was,” he replied, trying not to sound as sullen as he felt.  

Hawke just laughed, “You’d be surprised; I was a late bloomer. Very awkward. I try not to think too much about it.” 

Anders wasn’t sure how much he believed that. Trying to imagine Hawke without boundless charm and a talent for getting into the pants of any person he chose, was sort of impossible. The thought made him smile just a little, though. “Really? I can’t picture that at all.” 

It took a glance out of the corner of his eye at the way Isabela was sneering at him to notice the way his tone had softened talking to Hawke. He was such an obvious lovesick fool and he hated how determined Isabela was to taunt him for it. He felt his earlier irritation with her quickly returning. 

“What I can’t picture is you with Isabela, no matter how long ago. Somehow it just doesn’t match up.” 

And before Isabela could say anything how he’d been different in the past, more enjoyable company, not the whining bore he’d since become, Anders – apparently as determined to prove her right as to get back at her for so obviously thinking it – grouched, “I can’t imagine why it would be a surprise; she’s slept with half the people we know.” 

This time he actually saw Hawke wince as he said it. The look he gave him saying clearly, _why did you do that?_ And, quite possibly _, you idiot._  

Isabela rounded on him. “Oh, _she_ has, has _she_ ? You know, it does generally take _two_ , at the very least - or has it been so long that you’d forgotten that?” 

Anders might have been turning slightly red again. “I- What?” 

Isabela ignored his stuttering. “I can’t help but notice how you fail to treat Hawke with the same level of judgemental disdain. I wonder why that might be.” 

Hawke held up his hands, saying, “Actually, I’d rather be left out of this particular discussion, if that’s alright.” 

Isabela flashed him a dirty look. “Of course you would.” 

This time the look Hawke gave Anders said, _see? Now you’ve made her mad._  

“I’m not ashamed of who I am,” she was saying now. “Maybe you feel that way but don’t project your issues onto me. I have no time for them.” 

Anders couldn’t quite come up with an answer to that. But he managed a mental note to keep his mouth shut about his observations regarding Isabela’s sex life in the future. She was really not someone to cross over something this petty.  

“Half the people we know...” she scoffed and her temper seemed to be cooling off as she settled back against the wall behind the table she was sitting on. “If you must know, I’m not quite there yet. But I do have _ambitions_ …” She raised her eyebrows suggestively and added to Hawke, “Particularly if that whole thing with you and Fenris is done with now. Now _he_ is really… _something_ …” 

Anders' eyes flicked instantly to Hawke and he didn't miss the way the other man stiffened at Isabela's words. The look on his face was surprise, to begin with. He didn't look outright _hurt_ but Anders was pretty sure that that was what he was feeling. It lasted only a moment before he smoothed his expression over into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps you’ll have more luck with that than I did…” he said evenly.  

He was fooling no one. A glance at Isabela told Anders that she was fairly unimpressed with Hawke’s reaction. She simply shrugged, saying nothing, perhaps realising that she shouldn’t have said what she had done but that outright apologising for it would only make the situation more awkward. Anders didn’t know if he was more annoyed at her for bringing it up, or at Fenris for whatever the fuck he’d done to cause Hawke to make a face like that.  

Or was it just that he was upset by the reminder that there was someone other than him on Hawke’s mind? But Anders hadn’t really believed that Hawke was thinking about him at all, had he? Not in that way. Not as anything more than a friend. There was no reason he should suddenly be upset about it now. 

_Selfish_ , he thought to himself. _It’s not about you._  

“Well,” Hawke’s voice broke through what Anders realised had been a slightly awkward silence. “I’m getting the impression that a more experienced hand than mine is required here, so I think I’ll leave you both to it. There was something I was supposed to go and see Varric about anyway. Will I see you at the Hanged Man later?”  

“Of course,” Isabela replied. “Where else would I be?” 

He looked to Anders, questioning.  

“I...” The Hanged Man... If Hawke was there later, Fenris would likely be there too. He wasn’t sure he was in the mood for that after what he’d just seen. “Perhaps.” 

Hawke looked at him a moment before nodding. Then he turned and walked out of the clinic.  

Anders stared after him, feeling like an idiot. He should have said something. Or, if not in front of Isabela, he should have followed after him and then said something. Offered some kind of support. It’s what Hawke would have done for him. But it wasn’t too late to do that and he was still standing rooted to the spot, without a clue as to what it was he should have said. Just staring at the place Hawke had been a moment earlier. 

It took several long seconds to snap himself out of it and, when he did, he turned and saw Isabela, leaning forward again, head propped up in her hand, watching him. 

“What?”  

She watched him a moment longer before saying, “If you want him that badly, you should really just tell him so.” When Anders scowled at her, she simply stretched and leaned back again, looking entirely unconcerned. “Well, just sitting around here sulking is clearly doing you no favours.” 

Did she really think she was helping with such a short-sighted suggestion? He doubted it. Isabela was hardly known for being particularly helpful. And, either way, he was in no mood for it. “Oh yes,” he snapped, “Why don’t I just throw myself at a man who is clearly besotted with someone else. I can’t see how that could possibly go wrong.” 

Isabela was unfazed by his flare of temper. “He’d probably be delighted,” she told him with a small shrug. 

If she meant that to be reassuring, it hadn’t worked. If anything, it irritated him more. “Are you basing that on _personal_ experience?” 

He just couldn’t help himself, it seemed. It also seemed that Isabela was past the point of getting angry with him over his inability to keep his snarky comments to himself. Rather than losing her temper again, she simply narrowed her eyes and asked, “Has anyone ever told you that your bedside manner is terrible?” 

Somehow it was the reminder of where they were, the reason she had come to him today, that got through to him. He would never have spoken to any of his other patients like this. Isabela, despite their bickering, was a friend and he could afford to be less formal with her. But that did not make it acceptable to speak to her in such a way when she’d come to him for the same help he offered any citizen of Kirkwall that needed it.  

“I - no… I’m sorry…” he said, deflating. 

Isabela eyed him a moment and simply rolled her eyes. “See this is why I don’t do feelings. Jealousy is not a good look on anyone.” 

Anders let out a soft, humourless laugh. “It doesn’t feel all that fantastic either.” 

“Well, I assume admitting it is the first step...” She looked at him for a moment, as though she was considering letting the topic drop, but then, as if she’d decided it was her duty to inform him, she added, “You’re an idiot, you know.” 

Anders rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “Believe me, I’m aware.” He’d been telling himself the same thing for weeks now. But it didn’t change anything.  

Normally, he wouldn’t go so far; he didn’t talk about his feelings for Hawke. Not to anyone. But since, apparently, they were as obvious as he’d suspected and Isabela seemed to know anyway, he found himself making a quiet confession to her. “I just… If all I am to him is a distraction from whatever is going on between him and Fenris then… I can take it as long as it’s just _this_ ... but if it were to become anything more…” If Anders got a taste of what he wanted so badly and Hawke then went back to _him_... that he couldn’t take. That was the truth of it; too painful a thought to complete out loud. 

“Have you even considered the possibility that he comes here because _you’re_ the one he’s interested in?” Isabela’s tone was dry.  

Anders frowned, but his answer came softly, with a small shake of his head, “Of course I have. But wishing for something doesn’t make it true. You saw the look on his face before he left just then and it had nothing to do with me.” 

Isabela stared a moment and then let out an irritated sigh. "How is it that I keep ending up smack in the middle of situations like this? I'd threaten to bed him first as I did with Aveline's man, but I think that threat might have lost its weight in this case…" She stopped to look thoughtful for a moment, then gave a small shrug. "Still, doesn't mean I won't do it again." 

Anders just glared at her. “You’re a terrible friend.” 

“Noted,” she replied with a sarcastic smile. “Now can we get back to the reason I came here?” 

Anders sighed. “Please, let’s do that.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joining the others at The Hanged Man starts to seem like a good idea after all - or, at least, it's a good alternative to sulking.

In the end, he did go to The Hanged Man that night. Hawke had – however loosely – implied that he wanted Anders to come and that seemed like enough of a reason to show up.  It was early evening when he arrived and the tavern was not overly crowded, but not empty either. There were plenty of recognisable faces about – it seemed that most of the regulars never left – but nobody in sight that he particularly wanted to stop and talk to. Noting that, he carried on to the back, up towards  Varric's suite.

When he stepped around the door into  Varric’s room, it was worse than he’d expected. He hadn’t thought he’d arrived that early but if this was one of their group’s usual get-togethers, for drinks and Wicked Grace, then most had yet to turn up. The only people in the room were Hawke,  Varric and Fenris. Wonderful. Not awkward at all, that. 

It wasn’t as though Anders had never spent time with only Varric as a buffer between himself and the other two. They went on expeditions like that more often than Anders really liked. But with the way Hawke had run out on him earlier that day... the thing was, he’d come here because he’d figured that realistically it would probably work out as an efficient distraction from the somewhat mopey turn his thoughts had taken. Better to be here with his friends than back at the clinic alone, thinking the worst. He’s already begun imagining how the night would play out, seeing Hawke putting on a smile and joking about as usual, all the while pining for someone who wasn’t Anders. And if he could not get those thoughts out of his head anyway then what was the point in staying away?

Now he was doubting his logic. But he’d already missed his chance to change his mind and turn back, he realised, as they each looked up to take note of him in the doorway. They were sat around the table with Hawke at the end closest to the door, Fenris opposite and furthest away, while Varric was seated somewhere in the middle. Varric’s greeting was a pleasant, “Good to see you, Blondie.”

Hawke’s smile was wide. “You showed up!”

Fenris said nothing. Anders hadn’t expected him to.

Anders, realising there was nothing else for it, stepped inside to approach the table. “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t.” He pulled out one of the empty chairs beside Hawke – it was closest, after all – and took a seat.

“So you were purposefully vague to keep me in suspense then?” 

Anders looked at Hawke with amusement, not quite believing that Hawke had been giving his intended whereabouts so much consideration. Those weren’t thoughts to say out loud, though, so he simply teased, “I suppose someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

Hawke grinned. His face was slightly flushed and his eyes were merry; quite the difference from how they’d looked back at the clinic earlier. Taking in the empty mug before him and the large yet just as empty jug in the centre of the table, Anders presumed he was at least a little drunk. 

“How long have you been here? Not since you left the clinic earlier?”

Hawke looked like he was thinking about it. “I - no, I had a few other things to do around Lowtown before that.”

Varric snorted. "Well, they can't have taken you that long. You've been here for the past few hours at least."     


Hawke gave him a look that screamed:  _ betrayal!  _ “Are you implying that I’m a slacker? I’ll have you know I work very hard. I was up half of last night helping Aveline clear out a gang in Hightown. Back me up on this, Fenris.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “No one is doubting you, Hawke.”

“See?” Hawke looked to Varric and Anders in turn as if that proved his point. “And just this morning, I saved a young boy’s life. If that doesn’t earn you an afternoon’s rest, I don’t know what does.”

Anders decided that there was little need to point out that, had Hawke not come to the clinic when he did, Anders would have simply healed the boy himself – long before there’d been time for him to bleed out from the leg wound. He had, however, healed several others since Hawke had taken off. “In that case, I suppose I have some  _ rest _ to catch up on.”

“Now  _ that _ is what I like to hear,” Hawke cheered. “Let me fill your cup! Why don’t you have a cup? Oh shit, we’re out of ale. Okay, more ale first. I’ll be back in a moment.” And off he went to get their refill.

Anders looked from Fenris to Varric. Besides the steady noise coming from downstairs, it seemed awfully quiet now that Hawke had left the room.

“We - er – are we expecting anyone else?” 

Isabela had said she'd be here and he was surprised she wasn't about, either drinking with the others or in her usual spot downstairs. 

“Oh, they’ll be along...”  Varric replied. “Broody here only arrived a half hour before you did.  So I’d still say you’re early; I suppose it had to happen at some point. I hope it’s not too much of a shock to the system.”

Anders smiled a little. “I’ll survive it somehow.” 

He supposed that was what was so strange. On the occasion that he did show up to one of the usual gatherings at The Hanged Man, he tended to arrive the latest, other than perhaps Aveline, who might have things to tend to at the barracks. He’d usually have a thousand other things he was trying to get done at once. It wasn’t that any of those things had now disappeared... 

But ever since the day he’d confronted Ser  Alrik in the tunnels and Justice had come so close to turning on the undeserving mage girl, he felt he’d lost some of his certainty regarding the cause that had driven him for so long. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in it, only that he didn’t know if he trusted himself any more. If anything, he cared too much. And that was dangerous because there was all the more risk of his becoming consumed by it, and that  rage  taking over again , corrupting Justice into something he didn’t recognise anymore . He needed to learn to control it. That had to take precedence, or the results could be unthinkable.

Perhaps that was why he’d started to gravitate all the more towards Hawke these days. Anders had loved him almost as long as he’d known him. But he’d fought that feeling a lot more in those early days, convinced that it could lead to nothing but heartbreak, that it would distract from his true cause. But now, Hawke was the only thing in his life that made him feel... not  _ sure _ of himself, or he wouldn’t be so fearful of their friendship ever changing. Grounded, perhaps – something like that. All he knew was that, when Hawke was around, he didn’t feel nearly so afraid of losing himself. It might almost be enough to encourage him to pursue something more... if heartbreak wasn’t still looking like such a distinct possibility. 

Eventually, the other members of their group started to show and the room filled up. Isabela, it turned out, had gone in search of Merrill. Apparently, last time she had completely lost track of time and only arrived when everyone else was beginning to wind down. Isabela had taken it upon herself to pre-empt that this time and when they arrived together Varric decided that they could probably get in a round of Wicked Grace before Aveline was likely to show. Sebastian couldn’t make it tonight, not that Anders was particularly put out by that thought. 

When Aveline did turn up, it was with Donnic in tow. Anders was a little surprised at first; he’d never seen the guardsman here for Wicked Grace before. That was until he remembered that he and Aveline had been together for over a month now. Had it really been that long since he’d last spent time with his friends like this?

The evening progressed as expected, with everyone getting steadily more drunk around him. Anders didn’t try to keep up. There was little point to it. But he found himself enjoying the distraction of the evening. Even losing spectacularly at Wicked Grace was entertaining in its own way. Or, at least, Hawke seemed to get a kick out of it. Apparently, getting mercilessly teased by Hawke was pleasurable to him now, not that he didn’t at least attempt to give as good as he got in return.

Perhaps it was just the attention he was enjoying; when, out of everyone in the room, Hawke chose to single him out. It wasn’t that he was the only person there Hawke would speak to, but it happened often enough that he couldn’t help but feel a little surprised by it. He’d just expected most of the night to consist of bickering with various members of the group over the same old grievances that always seemed to come up, all while Hawke tried to play it cool, despite his obvious fixation on Fenris.  And, okay, there was still some bickering here and there and, yes, Anders probably was the one to start it at least a couple of times. But there was one deviation from the usual routine and that was how Hawke did not seem to be paying any more attention to Fenris than he was to anyone else.

Anders didn’t know what to make of that.

Was it juvenile, he asked himself, to wonder if Hawke could be doing it on purpose to make Fenris jealous?

He was embarrassed just thinking it. Hawke wouldn’t stoop to that, would he? 

But then, the alternative to that was something he couldn’t allow himself to think about. If he let himself think it and it wasn’t true then... Okay, so he was a coward. Juvenile and cowardly, that was him apparently.

Around the table, people were beginning to lose interest in the game and had split into separate conversational groups. Isabela and Aveline seemed to have got into yet another argument, while Donnic sat between them, looking somewhat bemused. Hawke was leaning over the table attempting to placate the two in a typically jokey manner that really wasn’t helping in any way. On Anders’ other side Varric was sharing another one of his stories with Fenris and Merrill. Merrill was stopping him frequently to ask questions, much to Fenris’ annoyance, if the looks he kept shooting her were anything to go by.    

Anders wondered if he just needed to get some air. Take a moment to organise his thoughts without so much going on around him at once. It had been a while since he'd been in an enclosed space with so many people like this.  And the fact that he was thinking about a small get-together with friends in such a way was probably a sign in itself that he wasn’t in the right headspace for it.

He was debating whether or not to excuse himself when Hawke sat back in his seat and turned to him, having apparently given up on his attempts at mediation. He eyed Anders for a moment before saying, “You’re looking particularly solemn and contemplative all of a sudden. Whatever could be on your mind that’s distracting you so from such delightful company?”

Anders stopped a moment, to take another look around the table, noting as he did, the fearsome glint in Aveline’s eye as Isabela leaned in just a little bit too close to Donnic, her impressive bosom pressing against his arm in a way that he wasn’t sure if it was meant for Donnic’s benefit, or Aveline’s. Anders guessed the latter, given the satisfied smirk on Isabela’s face at Aveline’s clear annoyance.

Anders let out a snort in answer to Hawke’s question. “Who are you talking about, exactly?”

“So you  _ are _ still here with us.” Hawke’s smile was nearly all in his eyes. “Why, myself, of course.”

Anders couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if  _ delightful _ is the word I’d use to describe you.”

“Oh?” The look Hawke gave him was unmistakably flirtatious and Anders couldn’t tell if his own more dominant emotion at seeing it was pleasure or panic.  He also noticed how Hawke had shifted on his chair, his arm now propped over the backrest and his body now angled just that little bit closer to Anders. “How  _ would _ you describe me, then?”

There were probably a hundred things  Anders could have  replied , ranging from the honest truth to something intended more to knock him down a peg or two – it was hardly as if Hawke needed any sort of boost to his ego right now – but, strangely, nothing was coming to mind. Anders’ mouth just opened stupidly before closing again, as the rush of his confused thoughts threatened to overwhelm him.

“Speechless, are you?” Hawke gave him a teasing grin. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Anders managed to open his mouth again to force out the words, “I’ll - ah – have to let you know about that.” 

Hawke seemed to take pity on him then and his smile became less provocative and more earnest. “I’m glad you came.”

Anders blinked, surprised by the honest simplicity of the words. 

“Is it really that surprising that I did?”

“A little. You have to be dragged out of that clinic more often than not.”

That was an exaggeration. Anders was always more than happy to follow Hawke about on whatever jobs he needed help with and so, by his reckoning, he got out of the clinic often  _ enough _ . It was only if he had patients about that he tended to keep the group waiting for him. Social gatherings, however,  _ had _ often tended to take a back seat to working on his manifesto... but, well, he hadn’t been doing quite so much of that lately.

Still, it was a light-hearted accusation that didn’t require a serious response, so Anders smiled, and answered, “What can I say? I’m highly dedicated to my work.”

“I know you are,” Hawke replied, his eyes glinting as he leaned just a little bit closer to him. “It’s one of the things I like best about you.”

And with that, any sense of ease he’d managed to slip into, thinking that Hawke had decided to behave himself, was gone, replaced by something Anders struggled to pinpoint. There was just something about it, the words and the way he was _ looking _ at Anders, that was so direct; so much more so than Anders was used to from him. 

_ He’s drunk _ , Anders reminded himself,  _ that’s why he’s taking it so far _ . Even sober, Hawke had no qualms with flirting with practically anything that moved. But not like this. Usually, it was silly, something to laugh off, deserving of no more than an eye-roll or some equally irreverent response – not that anyone could ever be quite as irreverent as Hawke, but still...

But this... He’d said it like he meant it. And that was it – that was what was making Anders’ heart pound about five times faster. Made his mouth, all his words, dry up into nothing. All that was left was how much he wanted this man, sitting in front of him, with that stupidly arrogant little smirk and eyes that stared directly into his with no hint in them that he didn’t want Anders as much as Anders wanted him.

All  Anders could think about was kissing him. 

Except, no, that wasn’t true because somewhere at the back of his mind he was aware that they weren’t alone and he wasn’t about to launch himself at Hawke in front of all their friends. That wasn’t how he wanted to this. 

But he couldn’t seem to do much else either, besides stare back at him, eyes round with surprise and wonder.  

Hawke wasn’t saying anything else. It might have been easier if he had because Anders could certainly think of nothing that might return the conversation to normal. It was a testament to how far gone Anders was with him that he was reacting like this. The words themselves were hardly that big a deal and _ I like how hard working you are _ was fairly innocuous as far as compliments went. But here they were.

Eventually, Hawke leaned back. His smile had become a little less of a smirk and rather more genuine. His eyes didn't leave Anders' and gave no indication that he wasn't currently aware of every one of Anders' thoughts. He felt something change with the motion and he could breathe again. And then a shout cut through whatever tension between them was left.

“We’re out of drinks again,” Isabela complained loudly. “Whose turn is it to get more?”

At last, Hawke turned his gaze away from Anders. “I’ll do the honours, shall I?” he said pleasantly even though Anders was fairly certain it wasn’t Hawke’s turn at all. He got to his feet and he flashed Anders another look, another smile. And then he turned and was gone.

What had that been about? 

Anders was still fairly stunned. It took him another moment to wonder if he had been supposed to follow. But then couldn’t  Hawke  have just asked? 

No, he realised, he’d been giving Anders the choice, letting him decide for himself.

So what was Anders going to choose to do?

He could stay, pretend that moment just then had never happened. Play it safe because things between him and Hawke were good and they didn’t have to change. 

Or he could follow Hawke out that door. Take the chance he’d been given and see where it led.

He’d certainly wanted to be alone with Hawke a moment earlier. 

Anders got to his feet. He muttered, “I’ll, um, go see if he needs any help.” He wasn’t sure he was even trying to make the excuse sound believable. He didn’t think any of them were likely to buy it. Without waiting for a response, he headed for the door. 

He was about head straight downstairs, assuming Hawke would have gone to the bar when Anders hadn’t immediately followed him out. But as he made for the stairs, he felt something grab his arm and pull him off course and into one of the rooms. Taken completely by surprise, Anders’ self-preservation instincts flared. He pulled free from the grip on his arm, whirling around as he dipped into his mana, ready to fend off the attack -

“Whoa, whoa! Relax! It’s only me!” Hawke was standing there with his hands raised in front of him, fingers spread in a gesture of surrender. 

“ _ Hawke! _ What is wrong with you!” Anders cried out furiously. His heart was still pounding. For a moment there he’d thought...

“I might not have thought that move through,” said Hawke, his expression sheepish. Anders glared. “You’re not about to start glowing, are you?”

_ Maker _ , he was an ass sometimes.

“Why would you do that? I could have... I thought...” he stopped and glared some more. “You should know better than to sneak up on someone who has spent the better part of their life expecting Templars to show up at any moment.”

“Yes,” said Hawke, looking shamed. “That thought is occurring to me now actually... I’m sorry?”

“You should be,” Anders huffed, beginning to feel slightly foolish now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

He looked about the room that Hawke had dragged them into. It was unlit, save for the glow of a fire burning in the hearth. There wasn’t anyone else in there with them but there was enough evidence about that it had been occupied by someone else until recently, if the personal effects laid out on top of the dressing table and the clothes draped over one of the chairs was anything to go by. “Hawke, this is someone’s  _ room! _ ” 

Hawke shrugged. “The door was unlocked.”

Anders looked at him in disbelief. “So you just walked right in? What if someone had been in here?”

Hawke was looking like he hadn’t stopped to consider that possibility.

“Just how drunk are you right now?” He should have thought this through properly. Hawke hadn’t been visibly intoxicated but Anders was starting to gather from his actions that he was in no fit state to be making decisions. Anders should have known better than to follow him.

“Hey! I’m not that bad! I’ve only had... er... well. But you know me; I’ve done plenty of stupider things completely sober.”

That... wasn’t entirely untrue. Anders snorted softly and couldn’t help but give him a small smirk. “I’d say you’re usually slightly less chaotic than this... but it’s a close one, I’ll admit.”

Hawke’s face brightened as he saw Anders begin to cave and he grinned back, saying, “So... that really wasn’t how I intended for that to go.”

Anders raised an eyebrow. “So I gathered.”

Hawke laughed a little and stepped closer. “I think perhaps it would be a good idea just to pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen.”

“Uh huh,” Anders murmured noncommittally. Nerves were beginning to kick in again now with Hawke’s close proximity. He wasn’t entirely decided on what to do. He was half convinced that he should simply walk away, at the very least, talk this through in the morning when they could both hopefully reason more clearly. But even as he thought it and thought of what a good,  _ sensible _ idea that would be, his feet seemed to be staying firmly rooted in the same spot. 

“Because before,” Hawke went on, “Back in Varric’s room, you definitely weren’t looking quite so pissed off with me as you were just a moment ago. In fact, you looked like you were actually having some distinctively more positive thoughts. And I thought perhaps you might want to share them.”

_ Now that we’re alone... _

He didn’t have to say it; it was obvious that was what he was thinking.

_ Fuck... _

Anders swallowed. Then he opened his mouth but no words came. He didn’t know how to say what he was thinking. He let out a shuddering breath as he pushed back a few strands of hair from his face that had fallen loose from his ponytail. “Garrett...” he managed, his voice coming out a lot rougher than he’d expected it to. Hawke was looking at him expectantly, his eyes never once leaving Anders’. And Anders realised that this was it, the moment he hadn’t even let himself admit that he was waiting for. It was time to come clean about the way he’d been feeling for so long now; the desires he’d been trying to keep to himself. 

“I’ve tried to hold back,” he admitted quietly. He sent Hawke a pleading look without even really knowing what he was asking for, for Hawke to accept him, or to do the sensible thing – the thing he’d been so certain would be better, safer, for everyone involved – and turn him away. “You must know why. You know what I am...” His eyebrows drew together as he struggled to meet Hawke’s gaze. Years' worth of emotional turmoil were all boiling down to this one moment with Hawke standing before him and Anders ready to open his heart and give him the choice to take it or leave it. The words he needed to do this were difficult to come by. “I can’t...” He let out a breath and looked Hawke in the eye. “Don’t expect me to resist forever.”

Hawke looked distinctly soberer than he had done even a moment ago. It made Anders feel a little better about having not already walked away. His words had done what he meant them to do and made Hawke stop and think. 

If he changed his mind and turned Anders down it would hurt. But it wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

But then Hawke said, “I don’t want you to resist.” He spoke the words quietly but firmly. 

It took only a moment for their meaning to reach Anders and then he couldn’t even – he couldn’t think. In the next second he had moved so that the small distance between them was no longer there and his hand was at Hawke’s neck, sliding up into his hair, and his lips, at last, were on Hawke’s lips. 

If he’d been able to stop long enough to consider it , it might have felt strange, finally taking something he’d wanted so desperately for three years, something that he’d always told himself he couldn’t have. But in the  moment there was nothing but... Hawke... He was so wonderfully close and still, somehow, pulling Anders closer. Arms around him. Lips moving, seeking more. A scrape of teeth, of tongue. He could feel Hawke’s hand on his back, the eager press of his fingers through the material of his coat. It made Anders wonder what it would feel like if the coat was no longer in the way. And, oh, that was a thought. Hawke’s beard was rough under Anders’ fingertips. There was the sharp edge of his jaw; another new discovery. 

He was having more and more of those little thoughts now , blinking at him through a haze of want and just...  _ Hawke _ . Hawke’s mouth, Hawke’s skin, the sound of Hawke’s breath shuddering out of him between each kiss. He’d wondered what this would be like. Fantasised about it and more. Anders could barely make sense of the fact that it was real. He pulled back a little, wanting to let his brain catch up with the rest of him so that he could maybe process it all. Figure out how it had happened.

His eyes opened slowly and Hawke was smiling at him, flushed and happy. Something in his eyes Anders had never seen before... open desire. For him – for  _ Anders.  _ Anders felt a complicated swell of emotion rise up in him. He leaned forward again, kissed Hawke softly this time. Lovingly, like a silent confession. Then against Hawkes' lips, he whispered, "If we could die tomorrow, I didn't want it to be without doing that." 

To his surprise, Hawke laughed. He moved his hands to place them firmly on Anders’ shoulders and pulled back to look at him properly. “So that’s it. Now you’re ready to die?” He was grinning, teasing Anders.

Anders smiled. To be honest, he’d been so fully enraptured by the moment that the words had come without thinking. But, yes, he’d wanted it. There were some nights he couldn’t have thought of anything else if he’d tried, and he’d thought, if he could just give into it, even once...  

Anders faltered. 

_ Even once _ ... Was that really how he felt? 

What was this? What was it that had just passed between them? Anders could not honestly say that he knew. He only knew what he’d wanted it to be. And that might not necessarily be the same thing that Hawke wanted. Reality began to slowly settle back in and it felt heavy around him.

It was exactly the predicament he’d wanted to avoid. He’d meant to tell Hawke honestly where he stood and what he wanted from him and, if Hawke could not give him that, to walk away, content to remain as friends. But he’d allowed himself to become swept away. He’d become overwhelmed by his feelings, his desires, and now if Hawke told him it meant nothing, he’d always have to  _ know _ what he couldn’t have.

If he asked himself whether that mattered, he honestly couldn’t say. It had been perfect, certainly, if only for that moment. And he knew that he wasn’t going to wish that all away now.

No. He’d wanted to do it. At least once. Just being able to remember how it felt might even be enough if Hawke decided to-

“Anders?” Hawke was looking at him, a faint smile still lingering but there was concern now in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Anders blinked slowly, coming back to the present. He thought for a moment about how to phrase what he was thinking but all that came to him was, “I’ve wanted this for too long.”

Hawke’s smile widened at that and there was a touch of self-satisfaction in it. “Oh , really?” 

“But I don’t know what it is _ you  _ want. From me.”

Hawke did not seem particularly alarmed by this admission. The smile didn’t leave his face. He moved his hands down over Anders’ shoulders, smoothing the feathers on his coat, along his arms, up again. “I thought I'd just made _ that _ pretty clear.”

Anders shook his head. “Earlier today it looked like what you wanted was something entirely different.”

Hawke froze. His easy-going expression stayed mostly in place but it looked slightly more confused than it had a moment ago. “Huh?”

He wished he didn’t have to say it. But perhaps it was needed, for one of them to speak plainly for once. It was time to finally stop dancing around this issue. “What Isabela said... about Fenris. I saw that look on your face afterwards.” 

“Oh.” Now Hawke’s smile was gone.

“You’re not exactly coming across as... consistent. With what you want.”

Hawke let go of Anders. He stepped back and dragged  a hand  over his face and up through his hair before letting it drop to his side. “Right. Okay...” He took a breath. “Look, I’m not going to lie to you; Isabela might have struck a nerve when she said that. And it took me by surprise so that didn’t help matters. But there’s nothing going on between Fenris and me. There hasn’t been for months now.”

“But you’re still in love with him.” Anders couldn’t stop himself from saying it. He’d avoided talking about his insecurities over Hawke and Fenris for so long because, well, he’d believed they were true. And that they weren’t any of his business. He’d had no reason to ask about it. But now...

Hawke’s reaction was not what he’d been expecting. “What?” he exclaimed, staring at Anders in alarm. He let out an awkward laugh. “Where are you getting this? I had a - a  _ crush _ on the guy." He looked slightly embarrassed as he waved his hands, searching for the most appropriate way to phrase that. "For a while, I thought it might be going somewhere. But it didn't work out. And did I mention that this happened ages ago? "

Anders felt something like hope begin to stir in him but he forced it back, asking, “Then why run off the way you did?”

“Believe me, I've been asking myself that question all day.” He sighed and gave Anders a look like he almost couldn’t believe he was having his conversation but like he was resigned to it now anyway. “Almost as soon as I was out the door I felt like a colossal idiot. An _overreacting_ idiot. But to turn around and admit that would have been embarrassing. So I took myself elsewhere. To wallow in my own foolishness. And drink. Until I actually forgot that it had even happened at all. So _thank you_ for reminding me about that.”

Anders just stared back at him. That was his explanation...  _ really? _

“Alright. So I suppose I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But it really was that stupid. A kneejerk reaction, nothing more. I don’t know why it happened. At least, I don’t think I do.”

Anders didn’t want to say it, but it really did seem unlikely. But if Hawke said it was nothing then, okay, perhaps they should move on from the subject.

Anders gave a short nod and then frowned a little as the next question occurred to him. “So, then, what...” He hesitated. _What am I to you?_ He swallowed the words, uncomfortable. “Perhaps we should do this another time.”

Hawke raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with doing it right now? We’re here. We’ve finally, er...  _ broken the ice _ ... seems like we should just keep going.”

“It's like you said, you’ve been drinking all day. And you... I want to–” Why was this so difficult? Was he just making it worse, or was he truly doing the right thing? He shook his head, still frowning. “I don’t know how much of what you say I can take seriously right now. If you wake up in the morning and you still...” He took a shaky breath. “If you still want this. Then we can talk. But for now, you’ve been keeping the others waiting for those drinks for longer than is probably fair.”

Hawke blinked in bewilderment. “Okay...” he said slowly. “Um. I suppose that’s a fair point...”

“I’m going to go.” 

Anders tried not to feel bad when Hawke looked disappointed. “You’re leaving?”

He shrugged. “It’s late.”

“Okay.” Disappointed puppy eyes. Anders hated himself, even as he tried to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. Hawke shifted uncomfortably. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight Hawke.”

Just about draining the deepest reserves of his willpower, Anders turned and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm definitely taking liberties with the Act2 timeline here. Oh well, that's what fanfic is for, right?  
> Any comments you might want to leave will, I'm sure, do wonders for helping me not worry that this story might actually be terrible. I'd love to hear what you think. Kudos are good too. Thank you to those that left them, I appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Hawke come to a decision. Whether or not they'll be able to stick to it is another thing entirely.

Anders didn't sleep a wink that night. Lying in his rickety, too-small cot, with a threadbare blanket pulled up to his chin as his only defence against the cool night air was not exactly conducive to sleep on the best of nights. It was at least partly why he usually worked so hard, passing out most nights from exhaustion alone, rather than any semblance of comfort. Tonight was far from the first time he'd lain awake, unable to get his thoughts off Hawke, but the situation seemed a lot  more  dire than he was used to. 

He couldn’t get out of his head the thought of where he might be right now if he’d simply allowed the situation to play out without feeling the need to take the moral high ground. Hawke’s bed would have been warmer. Softer. Hawke would have been there. He probably would not have got much more sleep, but  he imagined  he’d have enjoyed it a lot more. He groaned, rolling over and trying to fend off the thought, along with the physical reaction it inspired.

He’d had this fantasy a thousand times before but knowing that tonight he’d had the opportunity to make it happen and had turned it down was actually painful now that he was thinking about it in retrospect. 

But he’d had a good reason for walking away. Even if, other than at a few particular moments, Hawke hadn’t actually seemed that drunk and, considering the amount he’d supposedly had, he’d been holding it very well. It had still been the right thing to do to wait until Hawke sobered up and Anders could be certain of his intentions. 

_ Yes, it was all very noble _ , he thought bitterly.

He was now pretty certain of where exactly that desire to  _ do the right thing _ had come from and couldn’t quite stop himself from thinking that without Justice’s  involvement he’d likely be with Hawke right now, in Hawke’s – most likely – warm and comfortable bed. Or, who knew, perhaps they wouldn’t have even made it that far. Back in his Circle days, Anders had become used to a certain lack of privacy and he’d certainly had his share of sexual encounters in worse places than a  random  room at the Hanged Man  – even one  belonging to some unknown third party that might return at any moment. At least there’d been a bed. And a door. He probably would have been quite willing to let Hawke have his way with him there and then.

But that wasn’t the point! The point was that if he was going to do this with Hawke then he should do it right. 

Anders huffed but accepted the thought. He wasn’t certain if it had come from Justice but, given that most of the thoughts he knew were his alone had taken a much less practical turn, he had his suspicions. And it warmed him a little to know that the spirit, even if he didn’t entirely approve of this, was supporting him all the same.  He knew the situation inside his head hadn’t been at its best lately – to put it mildly. Perhaps he just needed a few more moments like this to help restore some of his faith in this union he and Justice had entered into. He felt a little better, thinking it.

Not that that helped him sleep any.

The following morning, he opened the clinic as usual, fending off the lingering exhaustion from his sleepless night. It probably would have been easier if he'd had more to do but at a certain point in the night he'd given up on trying to sleep and decided to make himself useful instead. He'd spent the early hours of the morning tidying and organising, basically completing the tasks he would usually have done after opening while waiting for his first patients to show. Now he sat, waiting and yawning...

Wondering if Hawke would come by today.

It didn't take long for those residents of Darktown that required Anders' healing magic to begin to trickle in. He saw a child with a high fever, an older woman with a worrying chest infection, a man with a head wound, another child with a sprained ankle. It was more than enough to keep Anders busy. It was even enough to eventually stop his heart leaping in his chest every time a new figure appeared in the doorway, both hoping and fearing that it would be Hawke. He let his mind become occupied with more important things until eventually, sometime after midday, he did look up and this time the person hovering by the doorway to the clinic actually was Hawke.

Anders had been checking over a woman who had come in a short while earlier saying only that she had been feeling under the weather for the past week or so. She’d just finished explaining her symptoms when Anders caught the movement over by the doorway. Hawke was waiting, trying not to distract him and when he noticed he’d failed at that he stepped inside and moved to take a seat somewhere out of the way. “Carry on,” he said to Anders. “I’ll wait.”

Anders nodded and turned his attention back to the woman. Normally he would have invited Hawke to watch and talked him through it as he called on the spirit magic required to make a proper examination of his patient. But he didn’t think he’d be able to focus if he tried that today. His attempt to clear his head and pretend just for the moment that Hawke wasn’t sitting there waiting for him was shoddy enough at it was. Still, he managed it, just about, and was able to identify the woman’s problem.

When he was done and the woman left, the clinic was finally empty apart from Hawke and himself. The nerves Anders had barely held in check came rushing back to him all at once. He turned slowly and finally allowed his gaze to fall on the man before him. Hawke had been sitting on a crate while he waited but now he got to his feet and offered Anders a small smile. There was something almost shy about it, as difficult as it was to think of Hawke in that way. Anders thought it was possible that they were both just as nervous as each other. Hawke was fidgeting, looking like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Anders couldn’t even bring himself to speak.

Hawke was first to break the silence. “So, hi...” he began. “I, um – I brought you something.” He turned and bent to pick something up that had been set by the crate Hawke had just been occupying. It was a wicker picnic basket. “Lunch. I figured you probably hadn’t eaten today and Orana has been baking all morning which means you and I are in for a treat. She’s seriously amazing, Orana. I don’t know how we ever coped without her and – uh...”

Hawke trailed off as a slow smile started to spread over Anders’ face.

“And that was a lot of words all crammed into a very short amount of time.” Hawke took a breath. “Okay, starting again: Anders, would you like to have lunch with me?”

Anders laughed softly, feeling slightly amazed with how quickly Hawke’s babbling had set him at ease. “I’d love to, Hawke.”

Hawke's face brightened as if he'd not been completely sure Anders would say yes. He turned back to where he'd been sitting and pulled another crate forward to use as a table. Anders followed and grabbed one for himself to sit on. Hawke opened the basket he'd brought with him and it was only as the scent of fresh food hit him that Anders even realised he'd been hungry. It was a feeling he'd become too good at burying over the years, while he focused on other, more important things than himself. But Hawke knew that about him. This wasn't the first time he'd coaxed Anders away from whatever he'd been doing to make sure he got fed once in a while. 

The meal Hawke had brought consisted of cheese and fruit, along with the promised freshly baked bread. It was still warm; an added benefit of Hawke’s estate being so close. 

“You didn’t have to have Orana go to this trouble, you know,” Anders said guiltily.

“It’s nothing special. She would have made lunch for everyone else anyway and there was plenty to go around. Normally I’d have eaten with them but I started thinking of you down here...  well, I’ve been thinking about you all morning actually... Not that that should be much of a surprise.”

Hawke was looking at him and Anders could see some slight uncertainty in his gaze. He didn’t know what to say about it but it sent a pleasant rush through him to imagine Hawke thinking about him at all.

Hawke continued, “I, uh – I suppose we need to talk... at some point. But, um, I don’t know... Talk then food or food then talk? What do you think?”

Anders looked back down to the basket of food  and tried to pretend that the thought didn’t make him panic just a little.  “It would be a shame to let the bread go cold when it smells so good,” he answered then looked back to Hawke to see if he agreed. 

Hawke nodded. “An excellent point. Let’s tuck in then.”

The food was wonderful. Hawke may have thought it nothing special but Anders had become far too used to subsiding on pieces of stale bread and dried meat and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something so fresh. It seemed like an unnecessary luxury more often than not. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for it now because it had to be a good sign, right? If last night had been a mistake then Hawke wouldn’t have needed to go to any special effort to tell him so. 

Or maybe he was getting ahead of himself. 

Hawke finished chewing a piece of apple, swallowed and then said, “You’re looking very serious again. I have to wonder what you’re thinking about.”

"I, uh... Honestly, I'm kind of regretting keeping myself in suspense."

“Ah.”

“Not that this isn’t delicious...” Anders trailed off and bit off a piece of bread , feeling awkward as he chewed .

After a moment of silence, Hawke set down his apple and said, "If we're being honest then I have to admit I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

Anders nearly choked. He had not been ready for Hawke to get to the point quite so abruptly it seemed. He tried desperately to compose himself as he coughed.  

“Shit. Are you alright?” Hawke looked a little bit alarmed but also like he was trying not to laugh. He reached for his waterskin and handed it to Anders.

Anders nodded , accepting the water and taking a gulp . When he could speak, he did so accusingly, “I thought we were saving the discussion for later.”

Hawke shrugged, still looking slightly amused. “I thought you were getting impatient.”

“A little warning would still have been nice.”

“Alright,” Hawke said, laughing. “Consider yourself warned. I would really like to kiss you again.”

And ers didn’t think he could eat another bite now. 

“I... want that too...”

He thought his heart might be pounding hard enough to break through his ribs.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling it’s not going to be as simple as that?”

Anders shifted uncomfortably where he was sitting. “Did you think it  _ would  _ be simple? With me... with the way I am?” He didn’t think he was trying to talk Hawke out of it. Why did it sound like he was?

"Fair point... I might have had myself convinced that that was the case last night though. Now I realise that I was probably drunker than I thought I was. I can't say I regret what happened though, other than the part where I jumped out at you from the shadows and you nearly attacked me, that is."

“Yes, that part was particularly regrettable,” Anders agreed, voice dry. He hesitated before going on. “I don’t regret kissing you either. I can’t tell you how much I wanted it, how _ long _ I've wanted it for... But for a long time, I wasn't even sure there was a possibility you'd feel the same way. It just sort of came out of nowhere. I don't know if I..."

“If you trust me,” Hawke finished simply.

Anders startled. “What? Hawke, I trust you.”

“You do. In certain things. You trust me to watch your back; you trust that I would do anything within my power to help you if you needed it... But I don’t think you trust me with your heart.”

Anders did not know what to say to that. 

“It’s fine. I understand. I know that I haven’t done much to inspire that kind of faith in you. And I know better than anyone that I’ve been completely all over the place these last few months... But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care for you. These past few weeks I’ve come to realise that more than ever. I’m in awe of you, actually. You do so much... My entire life, all I cared about was protecting my own family but you care about so many more people, you help so many...”

Anders was stunned by this. It was difficult to speak but he forced out a protest, “You do more than I can. You’re the one with the influence, the hero in Varric’s stories...”

Hawke shook his head, smiling, “And you’re the one who runs a free clinic for the people of Darktown, the people nobody else seems to care for. The one involved in an underground resistance movement for helping mages. Whatever I do, it’s because you inspired me. You made me realise that I couldn’t just do nothing when I had the power to help.”

Anders just stared with wide eyes at the man sitting in front of him, gaping like a fish, unable to think of a single thing to say. 

Hawke laughed awkwardly. “Come on, you have to say something to that. Or I’m going to feel like an idiot.”

Anders tried several times before he got out, “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Hawke shrugged. “Well... I do.”

Anders swallowed. “I didn’t think... you’d want to be with me. Like really  _ be _ with me.”

And maybe Hawke, impulsive as always, hadn’t thought that far ahead because he didn’t seem to have an answer to that, in fact, Anders thought he seemed slightly stunned by the prospect. Anders sighed. Oh well, he’d already come this far. Might as well talk him out of it properly. “If you’re with me, we’ll be hunted. I can’t ever give you a normal life.”

Hawke recovered quickly enough to smirk at that. “You remember who you’re asking that question, don’t you? I did grow up an apostate in a family of apostates. When has my life ever been normal?”

It sparked some small measure of hope how little Hawke seemed put off by it. But something in Anders wouldn’t let him grab onto that. 

“You know this isn’t the same.” Anders got to his feet. He took a few paces away from Hawke and then back again. “Getting involved with me… with all this… are you sure that it’s even what you want?”

Hawke was looking up at him with an expression that was a lot calmer now but it still held some uncertainty. Anders wasn’t sure if he was glad that Hawke was taking the time to think seriously or if he was disappointed that he hadn’t known his answer right away.

“Why do I get the feeling we’re not just talking about hiding from Templars anymore?”

“I guess I’m not,” Anders answered quietly. “Last night you said that you aren’t in love with Fenris... but I’m not the only person you’ve shown an interest in since him. Can you blame me for not being sure where I stand?” Hawke was still staring up at him from the crate where he was sitting, not even his expression had changed and Anders still wasn’t sure what to make of that but he felt he had little choice but to keep going. He took a step towards Hawke and, since Hawke was not getting up, Anders crouched level with him. “If we’re together then I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

“Ah…” Hawke blinked and then smiled a little awkward smile, “Not even with Justice?”

“That...” Anders didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that. It was so not the time for it and, as such, completely typical of Hawke to go there. “Please don’t… Am I being unreasonable?”

“Not at all,” replied Hawke, having the decency to at least look slightly ashamed of himself. “I was being inappropriate… as usual.” He paused before adding, “I know that it’s different with… him.”

Anders honestly didn’t know what to say about that. Perhaps it was something they should discuss. But the truth was that Anders wasn’t sure where Justice  truly  stood at all in this. He was fairly certain that Justice did not approve of Anders’ desire to pursue a relationship with Hawke but he didn’t seem to be making any attempt to stop it from happening either. Anders figured it was just something they’d have to figure out in time.

At the moment, there were other uncertainties that were taking precedence. “I saw you hesitate before. I can’t help but think you might not be as certain about me as I am about you.”  

Hawke frowned. “Is that what it looked like?”

Anders was sure of it. But he had to at least ask, “Am I wrong?”

Hawke was still frowning and that seemed like an answer in itself. “Garrett, it’s fine. You don’t have to say anything now. In fact, it might be better this way.” 

“You mean if I stop and think about what I’m doing for a moment before rushing headlong into it?”

The small smile Anders gave him was the best he could manage. “That’s precisely what I mean.”

“Right…” said Hawke, thinking.

“Now, I think, is the point where you make another bad joke in a misguided attempt to ease the tension.”

Hawke’s eyebrows went up. “Tension? What tension?” Anders chuckled before Hawke continued, “No… really, what you’ve suggested sounds like a good idea. I… Anders... I want you.” And the simplicity of it, the directness of the statement made Anders’ breath hitch. But it was clear that it wasn’t all Hawke had to say. “But I also think I can see where you’re coming from. There’s a lot that I probably need to take some time to sort through. I know I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. So perhaps we can just take things slowly?”

Anders let out a breath. “Honestly? That’s more than I’d ever even dared to hope for.”

When Hawke smiled there was a warmth that entered his gaze that made Anders more hopeful than he had done this entire conversation. And when Hawke took his hand in his own, running his thumb gently over Anders’ knuckles, that sealed it. As careful as Anders had tried to be, he didn’t know if there was any coming back from this moment.

“Then that’s precisely what we’ll do. Now, is this the part where we both go away – take some time, think some solemn thoughts – or do I get to stick around and pretend that I’m helping while I’m really just sneakily admiring your general apostate-revolutionary, hero-to-the-sick-and-needy thing you’ve got going on?”

Anders let out a surprised laugh. “If you think that what you’ve been doing is in any way sneaky then I’ve got some unfortunate news for you.” He smiled fondly. “But yes, please, stay. I’m honestly just relieved that you even want to.”

Hawke grinned back at him. “What? Me? Run for the hills at the first sign of a serious conversation? Never!” He paused a moment. “Just one thing before I let you get back to work...”

It took a moment for Anders to see the intent in Hawke's expression. He was moving slowly, giving Anders the chance to back out if he didn't want it. But after all, it had taken to have that conversation, Anders did not think he had the willpower to resist now. He allowed Hawke to close the distance between them and this time when they kissed it was so much softer and so unbelievably sweet. With all desperation stripped away, it felt like a promise . Anders hadn't even known that Hawke could be like this.  But he was unsurprised to find that h e wanted more.

It  was not what Anders had had in mind when Hawke suggested taking things slowly. And yet, it was sort of perfect.

“Not sure if I was supposed to do that,” Hawke admitted after pulling back a little. “But I couldn’t resist.”

Anders struggled for words, managing eventually, “I’m, um, glad you didn’t.”

“Anders?”

“Hmm?”

One of Hawke’s thumbs was brushing over the stubble along Anders’ jaw. Anders was feeling slightly dazed.

Hawke’s eyes were bright. “I’m looking forward to winning your trust. However long it might take me to do that.”

And Anders thought that if this was the sort of  thing he could expect that process to involve, he was absolutely looking forward to it.

*

They were on the Wounded Coast. The day was bright and cool with the wind coming in off the sea. Hawke was up ahead with Merrill and the two were talking amiably as they navigated the rocky coastal path. Anders was watching, appreciating every time Hawke would turn his head to say something and Anders would glimpse his grinning face. He was probably supposed to be paying much closer attention to their surroundings than this. But it was difficult. Hawke was distracting. 

“So how was it?” came a voice from beside him. Isabela. Anders had been only dimly aware that she was still there and had been walking beside him for some time.

“What’s that?” Anders replied absently. 

"You and Hawke," said Isabela and Anders could almost hear the eye-roll that went with her tone. "Are you going to volunteer the juicy details willingly, or am I going to have to find some other way of getting them out of you."

Anders blinked and turned to Isabela. She raised an impatient eyebrow at him.

“How did you... Did Hawke tell you...?” Anders did not really know how to phrase it. It had been a little over two weeks since he and Hawke had discussed their relationship – or potential relationship. He didn’t even know what to call it at this point. And he hadn’t thought they were at the tell-everyone-about-it stage of things yet. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected them to find out; it was more that if things didn’t go as well as he hoped, there seemed to be less potential for awkwardness this way.

“Not exactly... But we were at the Hanged Man the other night and when I invited him to have a little fun up in my room, he informed me that he was turning over a new leaf.” Now Isabela did roll her eyes. “I figured it can’t be a coincidence after the way the two of you disappeared together after Wicked Grace the other week. I felt somewhat inconvenienced by the rejection actually. So I’m at least hoping that it was worth it.”  

Anders frowned. “Oh.”

“Well?”

“We haven’t...”

“You  _ haven’t _ ?”

Anders shrugged, trying to play it off a lot more casually than he really felt. “Well, we  _ might _ .”

“You might? You just  _ might _ ?”

“Yes. We’re taking it slowly.”

Isabela scowled at him. 

“I  _ want _ to,” Anders offered.

“I can’t believe I’m giving up sex with Hawke so that you two can simply continue to dance around each other.”

Anders raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s being judgemental?” But he smiled, not really minding. 

“You deserve it.” Isabela gave him a scrutinising look. “Oh, look at you,” she said, relenting. “It’s disgusting. Are you happy?”

“I think I am.”

She huffed. “Good.”

*

It was late when they got back to Kirkwall. Hawke was trying to talk Anders into heading back to Hightown with him. “You don’t have to stay. But I’ve been dragging you about in the cold all day. Come in and enjoy the fire for a while. Have something to eat.”

A hot meal did sound appealing. Hawke’s company more so. It didn’t take much convincing.

There was no one around to greet them when they made it back to the estate, save for Parsley. The  mabari greeted Hawke with enthusiasm and Anders slightly more warily. Anders wondered if he should try to make more of an effort to befriend the dog. It would probably make Hawke happy if he did. He’d have to give it some consideration.

As Parsley padded off to settle himself by the fire Hawke peered around and grinned, “Hmm, the coast is clear.” 

He pulled Anders into a rather distracting kiss. Distracting because he’d been quite determined that he was not going to let himself be seduced by Hawke – not tonight, anyway – and it made it all the more difficult to stick to that resolve knowing how short a distance they must be away from Hawke’s bedroom.

He’d sort of hoped that  Bodahn or Leandra or someone would be around to stop this from happening but no such luck. Hawke groaned as Anders – having gone past distracted and entirely  on  to carried away – had him pushed back against the wall , with his mouth now on Hawke’s neck  and  hips pressed dangerously close together . And i t was only when  Parsley barked a complaint that they remembered they weren’t actually alone. 

Hawke laughed and that was enough to make Anders regain some of his wits. 

“It’s alright, boy,” Hawke told the dog, “I’m not being attacked. At least not in any way I’d not be perfectly happy to continue upstairs.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively but Anders just stepped back, face warm.

Still, he smiled, shaking his head and laughing a little. “I knew this was going to happen.”

“You did? And here I thought you’d just been lured here by the promise of  Orana’s cooking.”

“There are a few more tempting things... But perhaps they can wait for another time.” Anders gave Hawke a questioning look. “ Orana’s not still working at this time though, is she?” 

Hawke shook his head. “But there’s usually something left over that we can warm up. Come on, let’s have a look.”

Hawke led him through to the kitchen and saw that Hawke was right. There was a stew left out in a pot. Hawke used a small burst of elemental magic to light the stove and set it to reheat. 

“Now, what to do while we wait?” Hawke’s eyes had an alluring glint to them.

“If you kiss me again, I just know we’re going to end up at some point scraping the charred remains of that stew into the rubbish.”

“Hmm,” Hawke looked amused, “that’s not quite the end goal I had planned for tonight.” 

“Oh?” Anders raised his eyebrows. “You had something particular in mind?”

“What if I said yes to that?” The look Hawke gave him was suggestive enough that Anders nearly rolled his eyes.  

“I don’t know,” he replied with a smile, watching Hawke approach him. “It depends...” Hawke had crossed the short distance between them and was now lightly dragging his lips along Anders’ jaw. “Garrett? When you said we should take things slowly, how slowly did you actually have in mind?”

Hawke made a thoughtful noise against Anders’ skin. “Probably slower than this... but then I think I expected you to be a lot stricter with me.”

“Me?” Anders laughed. “My self-restraint was on its last legs a long time ago. It just about died the moment you kissed me in the clinic the other week.”

"Really?" Hawke pulled back just enough so that Anders could see the laughter in his eyes. "Well, then you've been doing an  excellent job without it. I applaud you."

“Well... perhaps there  _ is _ still something of it left. Part of me still thinks it’s a good idea. Another part is having trouble remembering the point of holding back. I think...” Anders frowned slightly, “it’s possible that I’m too far gone already... that there’s no coming back from this for me. I want you too much to give this up.”

And there was something tender in the look Hawke gave him at that moment that made Anders’ heart rate pick up. He’d been afraid as soon as the words were out of his mouth that they’d been too much, that they’d scare Hawke off. But Hawke, it seemed, wasn’t going anywhere. “Good thing I have every intention of keeping you around then.” 

Anders kissed him, unable to hold back a second longer. 

As predicted, it was only a very distinct scent of burning that finally pulled them apart from one another. 

“Shit!”

Anders was laughing. “I knew it!”

“Hold on, I think it might be salvageable. I just won’t serve the part that’s stuck to the bottom of the pan... And what do you mean you  _ knew it _ ? It was you that kissed me this time!”

“I might not have if you’d kept your hands to yourself,” Anders argued, still wearing a small smirk. 

“Oh please! I’m not believing that for a second!” 

Still laughing, Hawke turned away from the stove to gather some bowls. He served up the edible parts of the stew and passed one of them to Anders. 

They went back to sit by the fire while they ate and Anders took immense enjoyment in the sensations of the warmth of the flames and the food filling his belly – admittedly still delicious despite the mishap in the kitchen. And Hawke’s company; the sight of him cross-legged on the fireside rug, with Parsley’s head propped on one thigh, the  mabari’s eyes locked hopefully on the bowl in Hawke’s hands. He was grinning, laughing, chatting easily with Anders long after both their bowls were emptied and put aside. Anders could not remember the last time he’d felt this content. Had he ever felt this content... this  _ happy _ ? He didn’t think so.

They stayed like that for hours, talking late into the night. When, eventually, they began to realise that it was perhaps a little  _ too _ late, Hawke did not ask him to stay but Anders knew the option was there. It was so very tempting and yet there was also something wonderful about things the way they were. Though Anders and Hawke had known each other for years, this was all so new. Getting to know Hawke as a lover was almost like getting to know him all over again and Anders was enjoying the process. He liked that there was still more to uncover and that Hawke was giving him the time to do so. He wanted to savour it.

Saying goodnight and walking away was an extremely reluctant process. But as Anders turned and started back towards the clinic, he felt how the warmth that Hawke had provided stayed with him and that was how he managed it; recalling all the time the feeling of Hawke’s touch, his kisses and the promise in them of many more to come. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke experiences a brutal and unexpected loss. Anders does what he can to support him through it.

Th at feeling of  warmth did not stay with them for long after that. But the reason for  that  was something Anders could never have predicted. 

What began for Hawke one morning as a favour to Aveline quickly became a somewhat reluctant search for an elusive killer, one that Hawke was not even sure was real until it was already probably too late.

The evening following their mostly fruitless investigation, a bouquet of white lilies appeared on a side table in Hawke’s estate.

Leandra did not come home that night.

*

When it was done, Anders knew that there was nothing he could do for Hawke but be there for him. He walked with him, back to the estate without a word between them. Stood to the side once they got back, while Hawke informed  Bodahn , Sandal and  Orana of what had happened.  They remained silent as they cleaned up and exchanged their clothes for some that weren’t covered in blood and Maker knew what else. He stayed out of the way, giving Hawke time to process – or whatever it was he needed to do. 

Hawke didn't ask for Anders , as he went to the library and pulled a seat out in front of the fire, but he hadn't asked him to leave either. Anders wasn't sure what he should do. Gamlen had yet to be told, that he knew. He thought that perhaps it would be best to give them some space but  not to go so far that he could  not  return quickly if need be .

He went to the kitchen, for no other reason than that was where his feet decided to take him. The door leading through to the yard out back had been left open and Anders could see the glow of a lantern  beyond the doorway . He went out to investigate and found  Orana there, cleaning. 

He told her, “You know, I don’t think anyone is expecting you to do that right now.”

She had the clothes they had discarded earlier, along with a large tub of soapy water. She stared at her hands as she answered him, “I... do not know what else I should do,  Serah . I couldn’t possibly sleep after hearing the terrible news. I didn’t know Mistress Leandra for long but she was kind to me. I will miss her.”

Anders sighed. “I didn’t know her well either.” He might have done. If she had only been given the time. It still felt like a loss. 

Perhaps  Orana had the right idea after all. He moved towards the clothing pile and found his coat there. There was a certain technique to removing bloodstains without ruining the feathers and he was far too used to doing it himself by now. Besides,  Orana looked like she could use the company. At least for as long as he could spare it. 

They worked quietly together for a while until Anders was distracted by the distant sound of the front door opening and closing. He didn’t think Hawke would be going anywhere else tonight – would he? It was probably Gamlen leaving. Anders quickly finished what he was doing and decided that it was about time he went to check on Hawke. If he needed more space then Anders could always return, or head back to the clinic, if that was what Hawke preferred.

Hawke wasn’t in his chair by the fire when Anders got there. He worried then that he’d left, what it might mean that he’d done so without saying anything. But Anders continued his search, moving upstairs, just in case. 

He found Hawke in his bedroom. Anders paused at the doorway, hesitant. This was the first time he had been inside. He’d been waiting and he found he no longer even knew what for. For it to feel like the right time, perhaps? It certainly didn’t feel like it now.  

Anders stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Hawke looked up and something like relief passed across his face, watered down by the obvious grief there. “I didn’t know where you’d gone,” he said.

“I was with Orana,” Anders quietly explained. “I thought you might need some space.”

Hawke just nodded, silently accepting the words.

Anders felt as though he should say something but he didn't know what. He figured nobody ever really did in these situations. In the end, all that came to him was, "I know nothing I say will change it. I'm just… I'm sorry." 

As he moved towards where Hawke was seated on the bed, he couldn’t help but briefly recall his own mother who he hadn’t seen since he was a child, who he had no way of knowing was alive or dead.  He thought of Karl, who had died by his own hand...

He didn’t know if it was the right thing to say, but he felt as though he had to try. “You were lucky to have her as long as you did. When the pain fades that’s what will matter.”

Anders had seen Hawke’s face before as he had told  Orana and the rest what had been done to his mother. His expression had been bleaker than Anders could remember ever seeing it. But there had been something almost detached in the way he had spoken. The look on his face now was nothing like that. Hawke was in pain. Anders had known it must be so but really seeing it was something else.

“I didn’t try hard enough to save her.”

When Hawke had come to Anders, telling him that Leandra was missing, he had been desperately focused. But it just hadn’t been enough. That was not Hawke’s fault. Anders told him, “She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Hawke shook his head. “You don’t know my mother.”

The words spoke of deeper pain, the likes of which Hawke had never shown to Anders before. And they seemed to suggest that this feeling was, for Hawke, something far from new.

It troubled Anders. But it was not something to address now. “No,” he answered sadly. “And I’m sorry I never will.”

Hawke could not seem to reply to that.  It broke Anders’ heart to see it. At last, he took a seat on the bed. He placed his hand open for Hawke to take, should he want it. “I’m here for you,” he said, thinking perhaps that was how he should have started. “Whatever you need.”

For a drawn-out moment, Hawke only looked at the offered hand. Then, moving slowly, he lifted his own and took it, and held on tight. "Stay," he said. "Please."

Anders pulled the hand up to his lips. 

“Of course.” 

How foolish it felt now to have ever refused him before.

Speaking softly, Anders suggested that Hawke try to sleep if he could, told him that he would be there by his side until morning. Hawke nodded and let go of Anders’ hand so that he could pull back the blankets, gesturing for Anders to go ahead and get in. There was no part of it that was not surreal, but neither one of them said a word about it. Hawke just lay down and pulled the covers back up and Anders curled himself around the other man, holding onto him so that he would know he wasn’t alone.

*

Anders was woken by movement close to him, a body turning in his arms. He felt warm and comfortable and reluctant to wake. But that was strange enough in itself to send a flood of memories of the night before rushing back to him, effectively washing away any chance of falling back to sleep. His eyes blinked open and Hawke’s face came blearily into view. He was awake and looking at Anders. 

“Hi,” Anders murmured sleepily. He blinked a few more times until his eyes began to properly focus.

“Sorry for waking you,” Hawke said in a soft tone that Anders had never heard him use before.

“No, it’s fine.” He hesitated then asked, “How are you feeling?”

Hawke gave an awkward little half-shrug with the shoulder that wasn't pressed against the mattress. He didn't look nearly as vulnerable as he had done last night and yet he still didn't seem like the man Anders had come to know over the past three years. Last night he had seen Hawke cracked open, raw grief made visible only to Anders. This morning he hadn't yet fully pieced himself back together. Though Anders felt sure he would, at least superficially, before leaving this room. It was a sign of great trust that Hawke had allowed Anders to see him this way. Anders was touched by it – painfully so.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?”

Hawke made a non-committal sound. “Some,” he answered. He waited a moment before adding, “Thank you. For staying.”

Anders was simply grateful that Hawke had wanted him. That he had been able to help in any small way. He doubted he would have been able to stand it if Hawke had sent him away last night.

All he said was, “Of course. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

Hawke said nothing. But he reached up and smooth Anders’ hair through his fingers. It had fallen loose from its small ponytail at some point in the night. He enjoyed the feeling of Hawke’s fingers moving slowly through the loose hair strands, of his thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. The gesture spoke of his gratitude more clearly than words.

“I’ve never done this before...” Anders admitted quietly, “woken up like this.”

Never w ith someone he wanted to stay with.

Not even with Karl, he remembered. They couldn’t have. Had never been allowed even something so simple as this. And there had never before or since been anyone nearly as important to him. Not until Hawke.

“These weren’t exactly the circumstances I’d had in mind for our first night together,” said Hawke. The words were a ghostly imitation of his usual humour. The dry sarcasm came out sounding hollow and wrong. It made Anders ache just hearing it. 

“I wish it could have happened differently,” he whispered. 

Except that it could have done; he had just chosen not to let it. But that hardly mattered now. It wouldn’t have changed what had happened last night. Hawke seemed to realise that too and he looked so miserable that Anders wished he hadn’t said it.

“It's strange to think of how excited I was by the prospect of this – of getting to be like this with you. Now it just feels... it feels wrong that I can’t truly enjoy it. It doesn’t feel right after last night that I  _ want _ to. I don’t know... I’m sorry Anders.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Anders insisted. “After everything, of course I don’t expect you to just carry on. It will take time and I’ll do my best to give you whatever you need, whether that’s by my being here, or giving you space. Anything. I’ll do it.”

Hawke looked at him for what felt like a long time. His expression was so much more serious than Anders was used to seeing from him, so it surprised him when the hand Hawke had tangled in his hair slid to the base of his skull and pulled him gently forward into a slow kiss. When he moved back after, his eyes locked onto Anders’ once more as he murmured, “I want you here.”

It took Anders a moment after that to pull himself together. To not let himself be lost to the emotion that might otherwise have taken over.

When he felt able to, he said, “There are some things I should sort out. I’ll need to speak to Lirene, have her see if she can arrange for any of the usual volunteers to what they can at the clinic for now. Though if there’s an emergency I might need to...”

But Hawke shook his head, gently cutting him off. “That’s not necessary. There are enough things that need to be done. I have to face them eventually. You go to the clinic. Just... be here tonight?” 

The warm brown of Hawke’s eyes had dulled somewhat since last night. But there was something like a plea in them now. It made Anders hesitate. He didn’t have to go, not if Hawke wanted him by his side.

“Are you sure?”

“That’s all I need to know – that you’ll be here.”

Anders nodded and moved in to place a soft kiss on Hawke’s lips. “I will, love,” he murmured. “And if you need me before then, you know where to find me.”

The endearment had fallen from Anders’s lips with little thought, had come as naturally to him as any other part of that whispered promise. But something in Hawke’s face changed when he heard it. It was subtle enough that Anders didn’t quite know what it meant until Hawke answered quietly, “I don’t deserve you.”

It was not a throw-away comment. Something in Hawke’s face told Anders that, in that moment at least, he really believed it. Anders’ heart contracted painfully but he made a weak attempt at a reassuring smile, even as he had to talk around the lump that had formed in this throat to get out the words, “I disagree. But I don’t know if we should get into debating that now. Because I could give you a list of all the reasons it’s not true  and I doubt we’d have time to get a single thing done today if I did.”

Hawke didn't even try to smile. Instead, he closed the short distance between their lips once more, kissing him hard so that they were both left breathless.

"We should probably get up," Anders panted when he could finally manage the words. Because the alternative, to carry on, had suddenly begun to seem more appealing than it really should have in the circumstances. Anders knew that neither of them really wanted for it to happen now. Not like this. Hawke seemed to realise the same, rolled over and nodded, staring up at the top of his four-poster bed. 

Anders took the moment to pull himself together then sat up. A thought came to him and he voiced it simply, “Breakfast?” He wasn’t sure if Hawke had eaten at all last night. Anders had had a little, but Hawke had claimed not to be hungry. He wasn’t going to let him get away with that this morning, not after all the times Hawke had pulled Anders away from his work, insisting that he needed to eat. Now was Anders’ turn to look after Hawke, and he had every intention of doing a good job of it. “Come on,” he nudged, picking up one of Hawke’s hands from where it was placed on top of the blankets. He brought the fingers up to his lips to kiss before giving him a gentle tug. “Let’s go and see what we can find.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As time passes, Hawke continues to grieve and Anders stays by his side through it all. Before they know it, their relationship has changed...

It did not take long for Hawke, once in public, to slip back into something resembling his usual self. In front of their friends, Anders doubted that the act was necessary but, even then, he did not entirely let it down. Anders tried not to let it worry him. Perhaps it was just easier for Hawke to cope with the loss this way. And maybe pretending that the guilt over failing to save  Leandra wasn’t haunting him helped him to bear it better. But on their second night together, when he tried to keep that mask on with Anders,  Anders  stopped him, told him, “You don’t have to with me,” and Hawke curled into Anders’ arms and let himself grieve.

The second night had played out much like the first. Anders did not feel as though he was doing all that much but it seemed to comfort Hawke to have him around. So, there he stayed. The night after that, they had passed the evening together in the library. Hawke was exhausted and fell asleep on a sofa in front of the fire. Anders, still awake, poked around the library until he came across a copy of his manifesto. He found himself, for the first time in weeks, going over it, making  untidily scrawled additions and  corrections late into the night. He had not even realised that he’d eventually fallen asleep at the desk until he felt a hand on his shoulder, rousing him. It was Hawke, who took his hand and led him to the bedroom where they went back to sleep, this time in each other’s arms. 

One night it was late when Anders arrived on Hawke’s doorstep. It was Bodahn who answered his knock, showing no surprise at his return for the fourth night in a row. Anders found Hawke in his room. He was in bed, lying on top of the covers. At first glance he appeared to be asleep, so Anders went about removing his coat and boots in order to join him. It was only when he was done that he realised he was being watched. 

Neither of them  spoke as Anders climbed onto the bed and as soon as he was close enough, Hawke reached for him. He pulled Anders into another one of those kisses that stole the breath from him and Anders was happy to go along with it. Who needed oxygen? Hawke was everything. Everything... He felt Hawke’s fingers under his tunic, scraping over the skin of his back, his lips dragging along the line of his jaw and up to close over an earlobe and  _ bite _ . Now he was gasping and hard and suddenly quite frustrated by the number of clothes they were both still wearing. And when Hawke rolled his hips and Anders noticed that he was in very much the same state, he was so, so ready to rectify that problem... until a thought, something that had perhaps been going on at the back of his mind this entire time, managed to break through to the surface.

“Hawke...” Another scrape of teeth against his earlobe and Anders gave another little gasp. He tried again, “Garrett... Are you – are you sure?”

The noise Hawke made in response to that was something like a growl. It made Anders shudder with a peculiar sort of excitement that really wasn’t helping with the process of trying to get Hawke to stop and think for a moment. He tried to open his mouth again but was immediately silenced with another kiss. Anders was helplessly drawn into it, whatever had made him try to stop a moment ago nearly forgotten. Until it came over him again in a jolt, making him pull back. Justice, Anders realised, with another one of his frustratingly good points. 

“I don’t know,” Anders forced out, breathing hard, “if we should be doing this now...”

Hawke looked up at him then and his eyes were like nothing Anders had seen before; wild and intense. And clearly frustrated with Anders' attempts to derail this. "Why?" he demanded, his voice rough and impatient like he knew the answer already and didn't want to hear it. 

_ Because you don’t seem like yourself right now _ , Anders thought. 

Maybe that wasn’t true. It was entirely possible that this was just how Hawke was in the bedroom and Anders had simply never had the opportunity to find out before now. But that was the point ! Or part of it. ..

Anders had never thought of sex as particularly sacred. It had always just been another way of rebelling against a system that had tried to tell him he and people like him had no right to love like any other human being. 

It wasn’t like that with Hawke. 

And maybe he was becoming more foolishly sentimental than he’d ever meant or wanted to be. But he couldn’t seem to help it. Some selfish part of him wanted to be able to look back and have this be a good memory. Not something born of pain and desperation. 

_ Not selfish _ , came the thought,  _ it is not selfish to want it to feel right. _

Huh.

Justice. Looking out for him again.

Anders took a breath. “Love... you know I’ll do anything you want. But I just... I want to know : are you sure you want it to happen like this?” 

Hawke looked at him for a long time and slowly that strange fire went out of his eyes. His expression softened. He pressed a kiss to Anders’s lips that was infinitely softer than any they had shared over the past few minutes. “I’m sorry Anders,” he said softly. “I didn’t think.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” Anders told him, shifting closer, to wrap his arms around the man he loved, to bury his face in the crook of Hawke’s neck and hold him tightly.

“No, I do,” Hawke murmured. “I got so caught up in my own head that I didn’t consider what you might need.”

Anders breathed in the scent of Hawke’s skin. “You’re all I need,” he replied, unable to help himself.

Hawke made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a small laugh and Anders moved back to investigate. He appeared mildly amused by Anders’ outburst but his eyes were sad as he explained, “You’re more to me than a distraction. I want you to know that.”

Hawke was apparently a lot better at reading him than Anders had realised. His breath caught a little at the reassurance. Anders hadn’t quite let himself admit that that was something he’d been afraid of. It was still somehow difficult to believe that, after everything, Hawke  _ wanted _ him.  He’d been too convinced otherwise for such a long time.

Unable to speak, Anders simply kissed him again and Hawke responded enthusiastically. Anders felt as though the mood had changed a little – at least, he felt more comfortable with it. And Hawke proved it when he broke off, saying breathlessly, with a glint in his eyes that Anders hadn’t seen in days, “So... you’ll do _anything_ for me?”

Anders laughed and Hawke took the opportunity to trail a series of disarming kisses over his bared throat. “ _ So  _ not helping the situation, love.”

"I want to help you," Hawke replied in a voice that sent shivers through him. He moved back up until they were eye level once more and said, "Let me take care of you. We can wait for the rest if that's what you want. I'm all for it. But  for  now, we don't have to hold back entirely, do we?"

Anders stared back at Hawke with wide eyes and found himself shaking his head. “No...  _ fuck... _ no, we really don’t...”

A slow grin spread over Hawke's face and as much as Anders wanted to appreciate the sight of it he found it impossible to hold back from kissing him hungrily. His head was spinning as Hawke reached down to loosen his breeches and slip a hand inside. He felt Hawke's fingers close around him and gasped against his open mouth. He felt Hawke smile as he gave himself over to the pleasure of finally,  _ finally _ being touched by the man he’d loved and longed for  for as long as they’d known each other.

Afterwards, there was absolutely no way Anders wasn't going to return the favour. And when they were done and cleaned up and back in bed together , Anders thought that giving in to temptation  _ just a little bit _ was actually a really good compromise. It certainly felt like some small weight lifted off them both. 

“Thank you,” Hawke said softly, a little while after they had settled. Anders had his head resting on Hawke’s chest and an arm draped around him. “For being here.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that, you know. I’m here because I want to be.”

“I know... I just – you, being here... it’s helping and I want you to know that.”

Anders nuzzled a little further against him, breathing in the clean scent of Hawke’s freshly changed sleeping tunic. “Good,” he murmured. 

“I spoke to Carver today.” Anders stopped his nestling and turned his head to peer up at Hawke. “If I seemed frustrated earlier then that’s probably why.”

“Oh,” said Anders. “Where did that happen?”

“He showed up at the chantry today while I was making arrangements. For the funeral. I suppose it makes sense that he’d want some input...”

“Did... something happen?”

Knowing Hawke’s relationship with his brother, which had only become more strained since Carver had run off to the Templars, there did not have to be any particular reason for Hawke to come back from their meeting feeling stressed but it had seemed as though Hawke might have been leading up to something.

“Oh, just the usual... Why didn’t you save her? That sort of thing...”

“He blamed you?” Anders was appalled.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Hawke replied in a flat tone of voice. “While I was fucking about, chasing after the wrong man and not even taking _ that _ particularly seriously, my own mother was being courted by a serial killer. And I was too-”     

Anders pushed himself up on his elbow to look Hawke fully in the eye as he cut him off, “Garrett, that’s enough. Carver was out of line, saying that to you.” 

Hawke shook his head. “No. Not this time. When it was Bethany, maybe; it all happened so fast that I don’t know what I could have done differently. But this... My mother... I should have been able to save her.”

“Love, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. I know that this pain is new and it will take time to heal. But blaming yourself-”

“I know it’s pointless.”

Anders sighed. “Can I take your mind off it?”

Hawke quirked an eyebrow, “That depends. Is sex still off the table?”

Anders rolled his eyes, somehow still managing to be amazed by his lover’s ability to revert back to irony or humour at any time, no matter how inappropriate. “You should know by now that I haven’t the power to resist you if it’s what you really want.”

Hawke reached up and threaded his fingers into the loose strands of Anders’ hair. “I only want what you want.”

Anders peered down at him and a small smile curved on his lips. He dipped his head to kiss him softly and briefly. “How about a walk?”

“You remember that  _ a walk at night in Kirkwall _ is basically code for a _ sking to be attacked by vicious gang-members,  _ right?”

“How could I forget? Do you think it would make you feel any better?”

“Perhaps...What about you? It's late. Aren’t you tired?”

Anders gave a small half-shrug, “I’ve probably slept more these last few days than I had done for the entire week before. I can get by.”

Hawke narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’re being awfully accommodating in your advocation of dangerous coping mechanisms tonight.”

“That’s probably because I know you and Aveline finished clearing out the last gang operating around Hightown last week. I doubt another has had the time to pull itself together and move in just yet. But if there are any stragglers, I’m more than happy to assist in taking care of them.”

“I suppose that’s a fair enough deal. Well then, shall we?” 

*

It was still difficult for what felt like an awfully long time. There was the funeral, which was the only time Hawke let the mask he’d been wearing most days slip in front of anyone else besides Anders. Carver was there, Templar armour and all, and Anders could hardly stand to look at him. But he saw Hawke speaking to his brother, saw the look on his lover’s face as Carver said something that clearly reinforced the feeling of blame that Hawke was already struggling with. Saw Hawke turn away, defeated. It made Anders want to say something. The only thing that stopped him was that Carver had just lost his mother too. And Hawke, at the very least, had Anders, had his friends. He didn’t know who Carver might have now. 

It did, however, take an awful lot of restraint for Anders to bring himself around to that viewpoint. 

Anders stayed close to Hawke throughout the rest of the service and he could tell that Hawke was grateful for it. When it was done, they went back to Hawke’s Hightown estate and drank and listened to Varric tell stories and each told a few of their own. When it was late and everyone else was gone and Bodahn, Sandal and Orana, who Hawke had insisted on joining them, had retired to their own rooms, Anders stayed, as he had done every night since the first.

Soon after that, Hawke began taking work again, the usual sort of jobs around Kirkwall and the surrounding areas. Sometimes he asked Anders to come along and other times he left Anders to his clinic work. It was gradual, but more and more things were starting to feel as they had done before. Except for their nights, which had fallen into a strange routine of domesticity. Anders wondered when this was going to change too. If Hawke would get tired of having him around so much of the time. But still, every morning, Anders’ departure would be preceded with a hopeful, _ “Will I see you tonight?”  _ from Hawke. The answer was always yes.   

They had never talked about making their relationship official but at some point, it seemed to have happened. Their friends all knew about it now. That had happened within the first few days when Varric had come around one morning during breakfast to see how Hawke was doing and found Anders already there. And if that alone hadn't given them away, then when Anders had decided it was time he headed down to the clinic and Hawke got up after him and said his goodbye with a kiss, that had certainly done it. 

Anders could not really blame Hawke for it. All thoughts of taking things slowly had suddenly begun to seem vastly less important and they found they could hardly remember the reasons why it had seemed that way before. But for all their behaving like a couple, there were times – at night, in bed with Hawke, or nearly as often during early mornings before he returned to the clinic – when Anders found himself holding back. They had agreed to wait, but how long for was something Anders was not sure either of them knew. If he were being completely honest, it wasn’t even certain which one of them they were actually waiting for.

One morning, before Anders left to open the clinic, Hawke was much more insistent than usual on getting a specific time that Anders would be done that day. Generally, it didn’t work that way. As long as there were people who needed him, Anders would lend a healing hand. It didn’t often keep him up through the night, not these days, but some evenings were busier than others, some patients more difficult to heal. 

But, since Hawke had asked, he tried to give a rough estimate, a time when, if there was nobody else that needed tending to, Anders would dim the lantern outside the clinic and make his way up to Hawke.

“Why do you ask?” Anders questioned lightly.

“Oh, no reason. Nothing at all, really. I mean, it’s basically just curiosity.” Hawke looked thoughtful. “And say you aren’t back by the time I need you; I can always pop down and drag you home myself, can’t I? That would work well enough.”

Anders tried to ignore the little jolt that came with Hawke’s casual mention of bringing Anders  _ home _ . As if that particular home belonged to Anders too, rather than the Darktown clinic where he had, until recently, laid his head every night for over three years. He raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Certainly. Though I can’t promise I’d be entirely pleased with that scenario if I happen to be in the middle of treating some deathly illness, or terribly injury at the time.”

Hawke frowned. "Hmm. Yes, that would be rather demanding of me, wouldn't it? Alright, in that case, I'll hold off until you're done. But, in the absence of any life-threatening injury or illness that needs your immediate attention, you will come by later, won't you?"

Anders smiled. “Don’t I always?” 

“Huh...” A grin spread over Hawke’s face. “It’s true. I really am that lucky.”

It was that note of positivity that let Anders know for certain that things were going to be okay. That Hawke was going to be okay.

Anders opened the clinic that morning with the memory of that grin uplifting him in a way he hadn't felt in too long. He hoped that the day would be kind to Hawke and not provide any reason for that happy look on his face not to be there when Anders got back that evening. 

It was on his mind most of the day, wondering what Hawke had planned, when he might be able to get away. When evening came and the last of Anders’ patients was good to go, Anders followed him out and dimmed the lantern so that he could try to quickly clean the clinic without expecting to be interrupted. He felt a little guilty about planning to leave earlier than usual, but he had promised Hawke, who had looked so hopeful when he had enquired after Anders’ plans for the evening. That sort of expression had become all too rare a sight on Hawke’s face lately and Anders did not want to be the one responsible for ridding him of it. Even Justice seemed sympathetic to that.

Once the place was as clean as it was likely to get, Anders closed up and took the passage up to Hightown. It was Hawke that answered his knock, beaming at him as he moved in to greet Anders with an enthusiastic kiss. “Your timing is perfect,” he said, between kisses, as he stepped backwards, tugging on Anders’ coat so that he had little choice but to follow – not that Anders would have chosen otherwise. Hawke’s fervour was far too enticing. 

Somehow, between them, they managed to get the front door closed and Anders replied, “Well, I was hardly going to miss the exciting promise of – what did you say,  _ nothing, just curiosity _ ?”

Hawke laughed, so close that Anders felt the tickle of his breath on his face, along with the brush of Hawke’s thumb over the stubble on his jaw. “You saw through that, did you?”

“I have excellent skills of deduction.”

“Oh, then what did you deduce about tonight?”

Anders couldn’t help how his smile widened. “I’ve had a few thoughts... For now, I’m content to wait and see if any of them were correct.”

Hawke pressed a soft brief kiss to Anders’ lips before saying, “I’ve no intention of keeping you waiting for long.”

He took Anders’ hand and led him through to the main hall, where they had to stop in order to say hello to Parsley. Anders and the  mabari had been getting along slightly better than usual with the amount of time Anders had been spending around the estate lately. He still doubted he was ever likely to fully understand the appeal of keeping a dog as a pet but Parsley was intelligent enough to tolerate most of the time. He was even sort of... sweet – in an attention-craving, slobbery sort of way.

Soon enough Parsley trotted back over to his spot by the fireplace to sleep and Hawke led Anders through to the dining room. Somehow, it wasn’t what Anders had expected at all. The thoughts Anders had hinted at a few minutes ago had converged around Hawke’s bedroom and the two of them wearing decidedly fewer clothes. He hadn’t expected Hawke to go to the trouble of setting up a romantic candlelit dinner for the two of them. 

Hawke turned to him with a smile, saying, “I thought it was about time we tried something a little more traditional. I know this relationship hasn’t got off to the most normal of starts... I wanted to take some time to set that right.”

Anders was still reeling. He didn't know why exactly, only that he was incredibly touched by the gesture. Nobody had ever done anything like this for him before. "I don't think it was ever going to be normal between the two of us," he said absently, still staring at the set-up. Hawke had gone so far as to bring in a smaller table, one much better suited for intimate conversation than the large one that usually took up the space, which Hawke had occasionally invited everyone to dine around in the past. Upon it, there were candles and flowers and wine ready to pour. Anders turned to face Hawke and continued, "But thank you, Garrett. This is wonderful."

He wasn’t sure the words were enough to convey what the gesture meant to him, so instead Anders kissed him, hoping that would speak more clearly.

Anders sat while Hawke went to bring out the food and then they ate and drank and talked and by the time their plates were empty Anders could not remember if he had ever felt so relaxed or comfortable or happy. 

“You didn’t say before,” Hawke began, after pushing his plate to the side so that he could lean forward over the table, resting his chin in his hand, “were your oh-so-excellent powers of deduction up to scratch this time?”

“I - er,” Anders let out a soft chuckle, “I have to admit you surprised me.”

Hawke’s eyes gleamed. “I’m extremely pleased to hear that. I know it’s not really much...”

“It’s so much more than you know, love... I’ve never had anything like this. I didn’t think I ever would.”

Hawke’s expression softened into something so tender Anders didn’t know if his heart could take it. “I had to do something for you. I wanted to give back after taking so much... I don’t know how I would have got through these past weeks without you.” Anders reached out for the hand Hawke had rested on the table. He took it and began smoothing his thumb over the rough skin of Hawke’s knuckles. A faint smirk touched Hawke’s lips. “And don’t tell me that I don’t have to thank you. I know I don’t. But I’m doing it anyway because I  _ am _ thankful. Endlessly so.”

Anders leaned forward a little so that he could bring that hand up to his lips to kiss. He wanted to say something but he couldn't speak. The way Hawke was looking at him, the truth Anders could feel in his words... it was all so much. Hawke didn't seem to mind his silence though because, after a moment's pause, he continued, "Even before... all this, I was already falling pretty hard - and pretty fucking fast, I know. But after the way you've stood by me, the strength you've given me, I'm certain now. I'm more certain about this than anything." 

Hearing that, Anders couldn’t hold back any longer. He was already out of his chair, arms reaching for Hawke, pressing close to him, lips seeking his. Hawke pulled Anders down on top of him, arms sliding around and up to pull the tie from his ponytail and tangle a hand in his hair.  It suddenly didn’t seem like such a mystery to Anders what he should say. It was filling him up. Every nerve in his body burning with feeling for this man. He pulled back just enough to peer down at him. “I love you.” He could not have kept the words to himself any longer if he’d tried. “I have loved you for so long. For three years I have lain awake every night, aching for you.” 

And then Hawke was kissing him again, hard. “Three years?” he rasped, lips moving against Anders’. Anders could only gasp in response. “We need to rectify that.”

“Yes, I think we do,” Anders panted.

“Bedroom?”

“Maker,  _ yes _ .”

*

Anders stretched out at Hawke’s side, luxuriating at long last in the feeling of skin against skin. Anders had been sleeping at this man’s side every night for nearly two weeks and it had never before felt like this. But it had been so worth the wait. 

Now they were sleepily pressed together under the covers, beautifully naked and trading soft lazy kisses. Anders felt comfortable and sated enough to drift off, but simply didn’t want to. He was enjoying too much the feeling of finally being able to be like this with Hawke. It already felt like the sort of dream he never wanted to wake up from.

Anders was slowly trailing kisses along Hawke’s collarbone when he heard him murmur, “Stay with me?”

Anders shifted his weight a little and raised his head, giving Hawke a mildly amused look. “Have I given you some impression that I intend to do otherwise?”

Hawke smiled and lifted a hand to push his fingers through the hair falling about Anders’ face. “I mean properly. Permanently. Live with me.”

The words surprised Anders out of his dreamy stupor but there was a smile soon tugging at the corners of his mouth. Hawke went on. “I know that at this point you’ve practically moved in already but it’d be nice to make it official.”

Anders searched Hawke’s face for any trace of doubt but there was none to be found. Still, he felt he had to ask, “Are you sure? If we were to live openly together it would make a statement there would be no turning back from.  What I am, t he things I’ve done ... they would reflect on you too. ” A frown appeared on Ander s’ face as he considered his own words. “ Can that really be something you’d be okay with? ”

The skin around Hawke’s eyes crinkled as he let out a soft laugh. “Always so dramatic...” Anders huffed a little at the dismissal, but Hawke just continued to smile fondly and drew him into a reassuring kiss. When he drew back, he held Anders’ gaze with one that held no measure of uncertainty but plenty of warmth. “If you being here means that I can do more to protect you then all the better. The truth is that I can’t stand the thought of you ever having to sleep in that clinic again. Not when you could be here, with me.”

And the truth was also that Anders wanted that too much to argue the point any further. The smile was returning to his lips. “I don’t ever want to leave you.”

Hawke’s smile grew wider. “Good. I wouldn’t enjoy it at all if you did.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Anders confirmed, kissing him softly, and then not so softly, until all thoughts of sleep left them both once again.

Though it was still reasonably early, they did not make it very far from the bedroom for the rest of the night. And when they woke the following morning, the only difference between this one and the ones that had preceded it was their lack of clothing and the subsequent realisation between the  tw o o f them that there need not be any holding back between them now. Or, well, not as much. They still had things to do after all. 

Anders made it to the clinic rather later than usual that day. Thankfully there was nothing urgent awaiting him when he got there. It couldn't keep happening like that, he thought. He'd have to have more self-discipline in the future. But, though he was aware of Justice's disapproval, he could not quite find it in himself to feel too bad about it. The memories of last night – and earlier that morning, for that matter – were enough to keep him smiling to himself during any free moment where he could allow his thoughts to wander.

That afternoon Hawke came to the clinic and presented Anders with his own key so that he could come and go from the house – _ their _ house now – as he pleased.

It was as Hawke had said; on the surface, Anders agreeing to move in officially changed very little. But, beyond that, it was everything. Anders had dreamed of freedom, of changing the world, but somehow he’d never let himself dream that he could have this. 

The surface level changes had been made already. It was not as though Anders had any great number of possessions to bring up from Darktown. He brought the few things he did own up from the clinic the following evening but it felt more symbolic than it did necessary. Hawke made space for the trunk in their room. Standing there, with Hawke at his side, Anders wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it – calling the space  _ theirs _ . But as he looked up to the man he loved, who was wearing a smile now, a real one that would return to his face more and more often as the weeks went on, Anders thought that he was more than ready to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have been last chapter of this little fic but I'm already looking forward to writing more of these two. So hopefully you'll be hearing from me again soon! Until then, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. I hope you enjoyed it!


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